


scraps

by hullabalxo



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 03:22:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 81,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28896576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hullabalxo/pseuds/hullabalxo
Summary: my obsession with supernatural has officially died off, but as i've said before, there's a bunch of half finished stuff just laying around in my computer.so i'm gonna post it here, and call it a day. if you're confused about what it's supposed to be happening, or how i planned to fill in the gaps, leave a comment! it might take a while but i will get to it.AND, if you want to adopt any of these, do let me know! the oldest ones are not great, but i feel like some of the most recent ones had potential.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 1





	1. the queen

**Author's Note:**

> so this is a v e r y old fic that (shocker) i never finished. it-s one of my firsts and it shows. feel free to cringe as hard as you need to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> google docs says this was started on december 31st, 2017, which says a lot about my writing/english skills. it's just as cringy as you'd expect. enjoy.

#  Chapter 1:

Your newest fed suit suited your figure really well, but the coat on top of it kinda ruined the effect. The chilly wind of late January had made you button it all the way up, but you still gave off the “agent of the law” vibe.

Seconds before you entered the dinner, you catched a glimpse of a very familiar car parked outside.  _ Yeah, no fucking way, _ you thought. If they were here you would know.

You sat on the same table you had used two days ago, the one nearest the emergency exit, and the same redheaded waitress came to serve you, with the same excited face as the last time.

“Agent Cornell, right? It’s good to see you again!” She greeted, grabbing the attention of a table nearby. “The same as last time?”

It was kind of flattering that she remembered your order, so you nodded thankfully.

“I’ll be right back!”

The cheerfulness of the girl was contagious, and soon you found yourself smiling almost as brightly as her.

The warm sensation in your chest almost made you ignore the stares you were getting from three tables behind you.

You considered walking away through the emergency door, and ditching the car, but you managed to convince yourself that you were being paranoid.

“Here you go!” Said the waitress, coming literally out of nowhere. You jumped in your seat a little, and she noticed. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” She apologized, leaving your soya latte in front of you. “I didn’t mean to scare you, I’m sorry.” She repeated.

“No, it’s okay. I’ve been kinda jumpy lately.” You explained, watching slyly the man who had just  _ casually decided _ to walk up from his seat and rearrange himself on the bar, from where he could keep an eye on you much easily.

“It’s about the case?” Asked Jen, according to her name tag, dropping the happiness for a second. One of her neighbors had been found dead. Vampires. A big nest, you were actually surprised they hadn’t killed more people before you could stop them. Not like you were complaining, of course. “It’s probably classified, I’m sorry.” She continued, and just then you realized you had stayed silent for longer than you’d wanted.

“No, it’s fine. My investigation it’s actually finished, I just stopped by for another coffee. The local police should take over now.” You lied. She seemed relieved, and the smile grew on her face again.

“Did you find who did it?”

“Now that  _ is _ classified.” You chuckled. She nodded. “Can you get me the check? I really should get going.”

“So soon?” She whined, and you realized she had been flirting with you the whole time. Oh, Hell. “Don’t worry, I’ll get it right away.”

Your payment was on cash, for the first time in weeks, and you smiled a “keep the change, dear,” before rushing off through the emergency exit.

You heard her shout “Have a nice day!” But you couldn’t return the gesture.

The door lead you to the alley in the back of the diner. No one was there, luckily. Just two dirty dumpsters and a street cat. One of the exits was closed with a high fence, visible from the street, so you knew the most obvious way out was to your left.

Maybe you were really just being paranoid. Knowing that the actual FBI was after you wasn’t really helping with your stress. Maybe you were wrong, and they hadn’t recognized you and went after you, because maybe they  _ weren’t _ demons, angels, police officers or anybody who might want your head on a stick. Maybe.

But you were not going to risk your life on a maybe.

You ran to your right, climbing the fence gracefully, without even spilling your coffee. If those people were really after you, (and you didn’t know who, what, or how many they were), they had probably left the diner through the front door and went to intercept you on the obvious way out- yeah, the one you had just avoided. That had given you, what? One, two minutes of advantage? That was more than enough.

You were feeling bold, and the idea of going back to your car was really tempting. But you weren’t neither stupid or suicidal. Maybe you could come back later, with some backup, and rescue your belongings.

Maybe.

When your feet touched the ground, you ran in the opposite direction of the dinner. You heard -you thought you heard, to be honest- quick steps after you. You didn’t dare to look back and confirm your suspicions. You sneaked into the first open place you found, and prayed to God it had a place for you to hide, before looking around. You found yourself on a laundromat.

Your eyes catched the only person around staring at you, with the most sedated expression you had ever seen.

“Welcome to LaundroMax, how can I help you today?” He said, after a long and tired sigh, standing behind the counter.

“FBI,” you said, pulling out the badge, as you jumped the counter to where he was. “I’m agent Cornell and I believe someone is after me. You have to hide me.” You asked, in a way that didn’t gave him much choice.

“…Alright.” He said, blinking slowly.

You ducked in your place and held still. Unless they throw themselves on the desk, they won’t be able to see you.

The bell in the door ringed just like it did when you entered the place, indicating that someone had followed you in there.

“Welcome to LaundroMax, how can I help you today?”

You’ve seen tortured souls before, but this kid is dead inside.

“Hello, I’m special agent Simmons and this is my partner special agent Frehley. We work for the FBI. We saw someone walking in here, could you tell us where’d she go?”

So, no throwing the kid against a wall? Demon is crossed out, then. Angel too. They wouldn’t go through the entire FBI thing. So, it was either hunters, -which was pretty bad,- or actual federals, -who somehow managed to be even worse-.

“More agents?” He asked, and you fought the urge to bite his leg. How high was he, honestly? “The girl, she, uh… left, through the back door.” He lied, pointing at a door you hadn’t noticed before, besides the counter. You heard nothing else until one of the men raced through the door, without even looking at you. Thank God for that, because you hadn’t even considered the possibility of someone going through that door and looking around even for a second.

The one who stayed asked: “What did she look like?”

“She was… Uh, her hair was like, long, and shiny. And brown. And her eyes were kinda like yours, I think. She ran off too fast. And she had a scar on her chin.”

You were not stupid. There was a theory building in your mind from the second you stepped into that dinner and it just made more sense with every passing second.

The Chevy Impala parked outside. The stupid Kiss reference. That voice. And the description? _ “Eyes like yours”? _

Again, you were not stupid.

These could be your brothers. These were, most likely, your brothers. 

No, these were  _ maybe _ your brothers. And again, you were not going to risk your life on a maybe. So you stood still.

You heard some noises- the agent was doing something, but you couldn’t get your finger on it.

“Did she looked like this?”

“Yeah, she did-… Wait, is that you?” Said the employee, putting more emotion in that sentence that he had put in the rest of the conversation.

“Thank you for your time.” Muttered the agent- Dean?- before following the trace of his partner, ignoring the question.

When the door closed, you shot up and put your hand in his mouth to keep him from making any noise.

“Be quiet.” You ordered, whispering. He nodded, and you retracted your arm. “What did he do?”

“He showed me an old picture of you, like... With them.”

You nodded, knowing exactly which picture was he talking about. So, those really were your brothers. And they were running away from you, chasing a shadow they were never going to catch.

Slowly, it hit you.

_ Those were really your brothers and they were running away from you. _

Oh, Hell.

“Lady, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, thank you, really, bye.” You mumbled, before running after them. You had thought of getting back in touch -more than just the letters you wrote them every month- but you never had actually acted on those daydreams. Something always came up, and you had to postpone it, because you wanted your mind to be 100% on them.

That’s what you repeated yourself, anyway. However, that was only partially true. You were afraid that they might reject you. You wouldn’t be able to tolerate it.

Those thoughts were flashing through your mind as you ran, literally,  _ ran _ , after them. The door had led to a small room that looked like an office, and then the back door went straight to the backstreet, that was now empty.

Which way had they left? You couldn’t choose. The idea that you might decide to go in the literal opposite direction of them glued you to the floor. And you couldn’t fucking move.

Crap! How could you let them get away from you again?

Yes,  _ you _ had left  _ them. _ But they were the ones that slipped through your fingers as you desperately tried to pull your family together. You couldn’t stand it, especially after Sammy left. You wanted to go with him, but Dean wasn’t leaving John and you weren’t leaving Dean alone with him. So you stayed, for him. And when he pushed you away, blaming you for Sam leaving, you broke down. You felt betrayed. Hurt.

And  _ you _ left. But they left you  _ first _ .

“Mother of-..! Argh!” You yelled, kicking the floor in frustration. You had your eyes fixated to the floor. “Stup- Motherfuckin- Ugh!”

You couldn’t even get an insult straight.  _ You should be running, _ you told yourself.  _ You should be at least trying. You had more chances of finding them if you had gone anywhere instead of staying here. _ But you just couldn’t. Oh, God, you couldn’t. Because this felt like Stanford all over again.

Tears threatened to flood your face and you blinked them away. Even if you choose right between right and left, you’d still had to choose if going up or down the street. And- Hell, why where you still going over this? You had lost your chance. They must be thinking you ran away from them  _ again _ .

You were going to call the only person you knew could make you feel better, but you couldn’t even get your phone out before someone’s voice interrupted you.

“Dean, did you find h-..? (Y/N)!?” You turned to your left and you saw Sam, standing there, watching you as shocked as you were watching him.

“Sammy?” You asked. It wasn’t really a question, but that was the only word your brain seemed to remember at the moment.  _ Sammy, Sammy, Sammy. _

Although he wasn’t your little Sammy anymore. Not little, definitely. He was even taller than the last time you saw him. His hair longer. His skin tougher. His smile weaker. His eyes darker. And you hadn’t been around to stop it.

“Sam?” Called another voice, from the right. They had separated: of course. You turned and you saw Dean. He had changed too. They both had grown so much you barely recognized them. You didn’t even recognized their voices anymore.

He went silent when he saw you. He whispered something you didn’t hear and two seconds later he had ran to your side as he hugged you firmly. Sam joined right after him.

You wanted to tell them how much you had missed them, and how happy you were that they were fine, and how great they looked, but all your mouth allowed you to say was “I am so, so sorry.”

Dean’s grip tightened, if that was even possible. It wasn’t a “comforting” kind of hug. This was a “ _ we missed you so much _ ” hug. An “ _ I can’t believe you’re really here _ ” hug. A “ _ please don’t leave us again _ ” hug.

You held in there for you don’t know how long. Maybe two seconds, maybe three hours. But it felt like you would die if you let go.

Maybe three hours, maybe six days, but you were not going to risk your life on a maybe.

#  Chapter 2:

With literally the worst timing ever in history of bad timing, your phone started to ring. The surprise made you take a hop back, and since the moment had already been spoiled, you pulled it out of your mobile phone and answered, as you wiped the tears off your face. You hadn’t even realized you had started crying, and hated how much of a cliche that was.

“You better be either dead  _ or _ dying right now,” You hissed at the person on the other side of the line, since you didn’t even took time to see who was it.

“Oh, (Y/N), as delightful as always,” You heard the voice on the other end. “Did you like my gift?”

“G-..?” You froze for a second. That’s why you were sent to this hunt especially. That’s why Eisheth said she couldn’t get anything on where they would be this week. He had planned all of this for you. “Dear God. It was you?”

Your eyes met your brothers'. They had heard it, so now you had to tell them much more than you had intended when you imagined how this would play out.

“I might have pulled a few strings, yes," he confessed, uninterested. Then, he insisted, excitement returning to his voice. “So, did you like it?”

“Of course,” you smiled genuinely, and then added, “but you shouldn't have.”

“You're welcome, love.”

“No, you seriously shouldn't have. I freaked out, you moron.”

He laughed, and his voice gave you chills.

“Thank you.”

“Anything for my Queen, dear.” You smiled even wider with the word, and turned around a little to try to hide it. You loved how it sounded. You couldn’t get enough of it. “Aren’t you mad that I did it without consulting?” He asked, to be sure. He always asked things like that. Not to be annoying, but to make sure that you knew you could tell him anything.

“Not really.” You turned back to face your brothers, your body refusing to stay away from them, or even giving them the slightest chance of getting away. “But next time, send a text or something. I ran away when I felt someone following me. I thought they were the rebel demons.”

The boys chuckled, still emotional.

“Oh, but I already took care of those. I thought Mara had told you.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, to get the gesture quickly replaced with a relieved smile.

“You did? That’s amazing. Mara didn’t told me anything, she must have forgotten.” The call was getting way longer than you had intended it to be, and you were getting impatient. “I'm gonna go now. I have a lot of catching up to do.”

“Of course, Dear. I can mange Hell without you for a few days. You stay as long as you need,” Crowley replied, and you knew which smile was on in his face even when you couldn’t see him.

“You’re the best, and I love you. Be careful, okay? Okay, bye.” You said in one long breath before hanging up.

Sam’s smile became wider when he saw the love in your eyes. He might not know who he was, but you did seem truly happy, more than he had ever seen you in… Well, ever.

And even when he- both of them, actually- seemed happy for you, you knew it was not going to last of they found out you were dating the King of Hell. And they were not going to be happy about the ring in your hand either.

But you didn’t care. You were finally back with your brothers, and you couldn’t feel happier.

No one knew what to say, so you just pull them back into the hug you had left unfinished. This one is gentler. Warmer. This one feels like home.

“(Y/N), I…” tried to start Dean, but you cut him off.

“No, wait," you stopped him. “I’m sorry,” you repeated, pulling away. “It’s my fault. I did what I did and I’ll face the consequences. Anything you have to say, I’ll listen.”

They shared a hurt look, but remained silent.

“I’ll take three swings from each one of you if I have to.” You joked, not really joking. You deserved more than that, and you knew it.

They laughed, not really laughing. 

“Come with us, (Y/N)," Said Sam, and the three of us made our way back to the dinner. You noticed then that your drink was gone. You tried not to think about it too much: You had more important things to deal with, but your brain just couldn’t stop trying to figure out when exactly had you dropped your latte.

When you entered back to the dinner, you choose a round table: It felt better than just sit across them. You hadn’t even seen them in years, but now that they were back you couldn’t stand to lose sight of them.

“Back so soon?” Smiled Jen, carrying a pen and a notebook for your orders. “What happened? Anything with the case?”

“Oh, no. But I spilled my coffee, and…”

“Ah, of course! Another soya latte then?” She asked, placing the pen in the notebook, expecting. You nodded, silent. “And what can I get you, boys?” She continued, as she scribbled down your order.

“Coffee, black.” Replied Dean, unsettled by the -almost too- friendly way she spoke to you.

“Nothing for me, thanks.” Smiled Sam, and the redhead disappeared into the kitchen.

“Soya latte? Seriously?” Mocked Dean, lifting the mood.

“Sue me, Winchester.” You replied, with a smile on your face. “I’m a healthy person now.”

“You two will get along, then.” He said, pointing at Sam. The mentioned raised his eyebrows, like an unprepared kid who got picked in class. “That if you don’t leave again, of course.”

Talk about unprepared. You  _ did not _ see that one coming.

It took you about four whole seconds to get words to come out of your mouth. Sam shoot Dean a look you couldn’t read.

“Listen, De, if after this you want me to leave and never contact you again, I…”

“No, (Y/N),” interrupted Sam, “he doesn’t. Neither do I.” You smiled sadly, before looking at your shaky hands. “Do  _ you _ want to stay?”

“Sam, I do. I want to be part of your lives again, really. But…”  _ Deep breaths _ , you through.  _ Deep breaths. _ “A lot has changed. And I’m going to tell you everything, I swear.” You added, seeing their expressions. “And if you still want me around when I’m done, I’ll stay. If you don’t, I’ll leave. I promise.”

Sam looked at you with his brows furrowed, and his lips turned down. Dean tried to avoid looking at you, but he couldn’t and instead of meeting your eyes, he focused on your neck, from where one of your tattoos showed, along with some bruises from the recent hunt.

“(Y/N), there’s nothing you can say that can make me want you away again.” Dean said, his eyes locked on you.

You smiled, hope growing on you chest.

“Here you go!” Said the waitress, leaving your coffees in front of you. “Anything else you need?” She asked, and you waited for them to answer.

“No, we’re fine.”

“Thank you.” Said Sam.

“Okay then. Enjoy your drinks!” She said, and walked away. She wasn’t flirting anymore, you realized, now that you could focus on her body language.

“How are you doing lately?” You asked as soon as she was far away enough, trying to keep the subject away from you.

“Uh… It’s been alright,” said Sam, trying to stay positive.

“But you already know that, don’t you?” Dean raised his eyebrows, challenging. “In your letters you always seem up to date.”

You recognized the accusation hidden in his comment.

“I have friends in the right places. And, honestly,” you smirked, “it’s not so hard to keep up with you two.”

“Yea, I guess,” laughed Sam.

“I’m glad you got the letters,” you said, almost shyly.

“I wanted to ask you, about that…” He continued, “How’d you sent those?”

You’d expected these types of questions, and you were ready to answer them all, but you hadn’t realized how exhausting it was to actually tell all those stories until you were in the middle of one.

“The first ones I sent to Bobby’s house, and told him to send it to wherever it was you were staying at the moment, y'know? Because you moved too often, and I had no idea where you were most of the time. When Bobby passed, I was already-…”  _ Uh. Nope,  _ you thought. _ Let’s try again.  _ “I had people that could deliver them for me. And when you moved permanently to a bunker of the Men of Letters, I-…”

“You know about those?” Asked Dean, interrupting you.

“Yeah, I… I did some research on our family some years ago. And then we had a little disagreement with the Brits, so I guess they know about me too.”

You take a long sip of your coffee, calmly. Then your phone rang.

[Author’s POV]

The noise interrupted the question burning in the lips of the eldest Winchester. His little sister had said “we” instead of “I”. Who was, exactly, “we”?

(Y/N) recognized the sound immediately, and after rolling her eyes, she muttered an apology and answered, without leaving the table.

“Mara, hey. What happened?” Her voice was relaxed yet very professional. Calculating, almost. A silence followed her question, while Mara (however she was) answered the question. “So I’ve heard…” She said, in a passive-aggressive tone, that somehow didn’t lost it’s kind treatment. “Don’t be. It’s fine. Anything else?” The girl traded looks with her brothers, not really communicating anything. This silence was longer than the others.

“Tell them I’m busy and unreachable at the moment. Cause  _ I am _ , by the way.” The last comment had sounded like a warning. “I trust you to take decisions on my behalf while I’m gone… If you hesitate about something, you can call.” She had went from boss to BFF in two seconds, and that managed to amaze the boys.

“Listen, I won’t ignore your calls, but I’ll be expecting just one per day, and preferably to keep me updated…” (Y/N) found herself interrupted, and a little frown formed on her face. “Well,  _ honey _ , I’m not the only one that can make decisions around now am I?” She growled, annoyance dripping from her voice. “Exactly! If you don’t know what to do, call  _ him _ . I’ll be busy… Yeah, you too. Goodbye.”

In a fast movement, she finished the phone call, and returned her attention to her brothers, who watched her in awe.

“I’m sorry for all the interruptions. It won’t happen again,” she said, and then added, more to herself than to them, “ _ hopefully _ .”

“So, who was that?” Asked Sam, smiling. There wasn’t any dirty intentions with that, just plain curiosity.

“That? Oh, just Mara, from work. My right hand, you could say.”

“You have a job?” Asked Dean, surprised. “Like, a normal job?”

“Job would imply getting  _ paid, _ so no; and it’s definitely not normal, so again, no. It’s… complicated.”

“But, you left hunting?”

“I tried. I did,” she corrected, and then continued, “but it didn’t work out for too long. The Winchester name dragged too much attention. So, I went by ‘Tabitha’ for a while. A long time, actually.”

“Wait, Tabitha- Simmons? That was you?” Replied Sam, his eyes open in realization. It took Dean a few seconds to catch up with his brother’s reasoning, but when he did, his mouth fell open.

“No way…” He whispered, before letting a wide smile set on his face.

“That was me, yeah… What happened?”

“We ran into a friend a few years ago- He said he needed back up for a hunter named Tabitha Simmons.”

“He offered, but we declined,” continued Sam, excited, “'cause we hadn’t got your letter that month and we were looking for you. We got the letter a few days later, but Dave said you had already finished.”

(Y/N) chuckled, almost overwhelmed with the fast talking of her brothers. They told the story like it was the biggest joke ever, so she knew they weren’t done.

“And then he got drunk celebrating, and ranted off for three hours straight about how fucking amazing you were, and your technique and stuff.” The chuckle turned to a laugh -a nervous laugh, her body anticipating what was coming- that was imitated by Sam, as her cheeks turned red and her oldest brother kept talking. “But at some point he started repeating that you killed two vamps with one hand, and went on like that for the rest of the night.”

“Oh God.” She whispered, trying to catch her breath again, and failing miserably.

“So, for the next four months or so, we spent every vamp hunt trying to do the same, and-” Laugh took over Dean, and Sam continued the story instantly.

“And we couldn’t do it! So we gave up, and we agreed that if we ever met this 'Tabitha Simmons’, one of us was going to marry her.”

“W-what?” She blurted out, getting now the joke, and laughing even louder than them.

"We wanted those genes in the family!"

It took the three of them a few minutes to recompose themselves, since every time they seemed to stop, one of them would start laughing again and the other two would follow.

“Did you really do it?” Asked Dean, sipping down his -now cold- coffee.

“What? Kill two with one hand?” They nodded. “Technically, yeah. But it wasn’t on purpose.”

“Wait, what!?” Snapped Dean.

“I was coming for one, and this newbie tried to help him, and steps in the way right before I get to the first one, so she gets them both killed. I didn’t know Dave saw that.”

“No way! (Y/N), you just destroyed our heroine!” Whined Sam, exaggerating his heartbreak.

“Hey! I’m still pretty badass, y'know?”

“Oh yeah?” Challenged Dean.

“Uh,  _ yeah,” _ she replied, raising an eyebrow.

“I once killed a vampire with a wire.” Stepped in Sam, smiling proudly.

“I once killed a werewolf with a chair.” She smirked, satisfied with their reactions.

“…What? How in the hell did you do that?”

“Dude,  _ nasty _ .”

“First, I don’t tell that story sober, and second,” she added, now replying to Dean’s comment, “ _ yes _ . It was nasty. You can’t even  _ begin _ to imagine how fucking nasty that was.”

Dean laughed and nodded. “I’ll have to get you drunk then.”

“When you do, ask me about the dog park incident too. Oh! And the Deadpool one too.”

Sam’s brows furred, confused. “You mean the super hero, or the actu-”

“Sh-sh-sh!” She stopped. “Sober.” She clarified, pointing at herself. “ _ I will never talk _ .”

“Got it.” He stated simply.

#  Chapter 3:

[Reader's POV]:

"So, when we'll be meeting this boyfriend of yours?" Asked Sam when you made your way back to the Impala. You winced a little, but Sam didn't notice. "We'd like to know him."

"Give him a little warning too," continued Dean, opening the driver's door.

"Oh, believe me," you chuckled, "he doesn't need one."

"Oh, really?" Let out Sam.

"Why's that?" Asked Dean.

"Every step I take is a warning," you replied.

"Look at the poet," said your eldest brother, in a mocking tone. Then he realized, at the same time Sam and you did, that he had made his way back to the car and was getting ready for the trip to the bunker, but any of you had decided anything about what you'd do next. "So, (Y/N)..." He started, not knowing where to start.

Which is, by the way, a terrible way to do things. Imagine doing a heart transplant, but not knowing what to do first. You could try to take off their heart first, but it wouldn't work, and then you'd try to finish the operation with the incision and even when at the time it'll appear to be working, the patient would bleed to death. And then, you'd blame yourself and start to think that, maybe, if the cut had been shorter, or not so deep or maybe a little slower, maybe he would be okay.

But the fact is that you did everything correctly, just in the wrong order.

"So..." You repeated. "Where are you guys headed now?"

"We are going back to the Bunker now, since you already took care of the case... _ in the time it took us to get here. _ " Said Sam, matter-of-factly.

There was a hint of pride in that remark and that filled your chest with joy.

"You are formally invited to join us, by the way," added Dean, in a playful tone.

Your smile widened, and Sam mirrored your action.

"I'd love to." The air was getting warmer as the sun got higher on the sky, and you felt the need to unbutton a little your coat. But before doing so, you continued to talk. "I'm gonna get my stuff, okay? I'll just ditch the car."

"Let me help you," offered Sam, as he walked behind you towards the blue car. It was really not your style, to be honest. Having to drive it made you wish you could use your car more often.

You opened the trunk and handed him a backpack and a duffel bag. You picked up a metallic suitcase, and closed the trunk, to head to the driver's door.

You left the suitcase besides the door and sat down, your legs still outside the car.

"(Y/N)?" Called Sam, and your eyes met his for a second, before focusing back on your task. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything." You tried not to look so worried, but it was showing. The best you could, you got everything on the passenger seat, -a leather case, filled with papers from the hunt, and some other stuff-, and placed it on your lap.

"Are you mad that I left to Stanford?"

"What? No!" You replied, horrified. "How could I? I left too..." He sighed, minimally relieved. "Why'd you even think that?"

"It's just, uh... Dad, he- he said you left because of me."

Your eyebrows raised against your will.

"Oh, of course," you muttered between gritted teeth, "John Winchester not taking responsibility for his actions.  _ Typical _ ." You focused back on your older brother, who still looked like a kicked puppy. "Listen, Sammy, and listen carefully: If you want to blame someone for me leaving, that was him. It was my choice, but he..." You stopped yourself slowly. Sam stood there, with your stuff in his hands, expectating. "I'll tell you both everything later, okay? It's not a story I'd like to tell twice."

Sam nodded, understanding. "I'll take these to the car." He informed, and walked away.

You got the rest of your stuff and got out of the car, as Sam arrived to the Impala and questioned Dean about what you had told him.

"You okay, Sammy?" Asked the oldest.

"What happened between (Y/N) and dad after I left?" He asked, hurriedly, as he kept an eye out for you. Dean understood that you weren't supposed to hear this conversation, and replied with the same velocity.

"Nothing instantly. A week after, they argued, bad. And then she came to me for comfort, and..." He sighed heavily as he closed his eyes. It was his fault that you had left them, he knew that. He had turned his back on you when you needed him the most. "I took his side. I don't even remember what I told her, I hadn't even heard their discussion. I was upset and I took it off on her. The next day, she was gone."

"Oh, crap..." Sam muttered, but didn't say anything else, because you were making you way to them.

"Are we ready to hit the road?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good!" You replied, smiling. "Shall we?"

.

.

.

After a couple hours of driving, you decided to make a quick stop at a deserted gas station. Sam went to get snacks for the road, - _ "You guys want anything?" "Get me some Kisses!" "Are you serious? What about being healthy now?" "This is my life, and these are my choices!" _ \- Dean refilled the tank and you excused yourself, saying you needed to make a phone call.

You lost sight of your brothers and quickly ran to the ladies' room. It was locked, but you didn't care- that's not what you were here for. You took your phone out of your jeans' pocket and dialed 666, not without rolling your eyes at the phone number, as you did every time.

"(Y/N) love, is everything alright?" You heard on the other side of the line, almost immediately.

"Yeah babe- I just needed to talk to you. Is it a good time?"

Sam and Dean arrived at that exact moment to the Impala, just to realize that you weren't there anymore. Your stuff was, so you hadn't left them. But still, a little panic spreaded through their bodies, fearing that you might be in danger.

"It's always a good time for my queen," he replied, in an obvious tone, that wasn't meant to be hurtful but reassuring. "What's troubling you?"

Your figure caught the attention of Sam, who hurried to lead your eldest brother to you. They saw you pacing around, and -probably unconsciously- get behind the wall that protected the bathroom's door.

"It's just hitting me now that I'll actually have to tell them about us..." You whispered.

"Dear, you don't  _ have to _ if you don't want to," he remembered you.

Your brothers didn't meant to hear your conversation, but when they got close enough to understand your words, they froze, incapable of leaving or letting you know they were there.

"But I want to tell them. I want them to be part of my life. I just... I don't have a clue of how." You had whined, closing your eyes in frustration. "I can't- I won't lie to them. But, hell... They are gonna be pissed. I'm... scared, I don't want them to get mad at me- or you."

Now that was something they had to hear. What was bad enough that you were so afraid to tell your own brothers?

"I know- Believe me,  _ I know _ . But the longer you keep it from them, the worse it'll be." Crowley said, trying to be useful.

"I know that. But when I tell them,  _ and I have to tell them _ , they are going to go full-on psycho-overprotective-big brothers on your ass. And then, they'll probably try to talk me out of it. Or tie me to a bed to keep me from seeing you or something. In the best case scenario, of course.”

They shared looks the second you stopped talking. Who the hell was that boy anyway? And why did you think that... I mean, did you really think that they'd..?

"But, again..."

"But, again, the longer I keep it from them, the worse it'll be." You completed.

He sighed, worried. Not about them, but about you. They could try to kill him, but he wasn't really concerned about that. He couldn't take his mind off the image of you, alone who-knows-where, not feeling like you could trust your own blood with your anxieties.

It was up to him to get your confidence back, and he was committed to his task.

"(Y/N), whatever you decide, I'll have your back, okay? And whatever happens, we're gonna be alright. I promise."

"Since when are you such an optimist?"

"You're the queen of Hell, for crying out loud! If I'm not an optimist about your chances to succeed at whatever you set your mind to, what else would I be for?"

"Okay, point taken.” A smile settled on your face, slowly regaining your confidence. "I'm gonna tell them as soon as we get to the bunker."

Your brothers took that as their key to head back to the car, and wait there, like nothing had happened. When Dean leaned on the Impala, Sam tried to start:

"Dean...”

"Don't. She said she'll tell us. She will. We won't push her any further."

Sam sighed, as he watched you start walking back to the car.

"Okay."

"Hey kiddo!" Greeted you Dean, smiling.

"Hey old man," you replied in the same mocking tone. That's how you used to call him when you were younger and he tried to play his " _ I'm an adult _ " card with you. "How much 'till we get there?"

"Little more than an hour, why? Tired already?"

"Yeah, actually. I'll try to get some rest. Wake me up when we get there, alright?" You asked, as you opened the back door of Baby.

"You got it."

.

.

.

"Psst. Hey, wake up." There was no response. Annoyed, Dean leaned in closer to you -the best he could, since you were still inside the car- and attempted to grab your arm. "(Y/N)!"

When his hand touched your skin, you shot up and pulled out a butterfly knife, making him jump back in surprise, hitting the roof of the car in the process.

"OhmygodI'msosorry!" You said in one long breath, covering your mouth with your hands. He only growled in pain, taking his hands to the wound. "Shit! I'm so sorry, I should have warned you, fuck, I-..."

"Stop talking and help me," he asked, standing back up. You crawled out of the car and closed the door behind you. Sam wasn't around but either was your stuff, so you assumed he had taken them inside. Or, well, more inside. You were standing among other dozen classical cars, in a well illuminated room that felt more like a warehouse because of the size.

You walked around Dean to see the wound starting to bleed.

"Oh, shit! It's bleeding!" You told him, and he dropped his arms to see his hands, that had already been stained with blood. "How hard did you jump?"

"Ugh... Not enough for it to bleed," he replied.

"You sure?" You snapped, earning a look of  _ "seriously?" _ from him. "Sorry. Lead the way inside, and I can patch you up there."

"Yeah, follow me."

#  Chapter 4:

"What the hell happened to you?" Asked Sam, shocked. "I left you two alone for like five minutes!"

"He gets scared easily and I'm an angry sleeper," you explained.

"I don't get scared-... Agh!"

"Hold still or it'll be worse!" Dean dropped his head again and you went back to your task of disinfecting the wound, as Sam tried to understand what you'd meant. "I almost stab him when he woke me up. Hand me those bandages."

Sam obeyed without thinking. You became good at giving orders since you took the place of Queen of Hell- and it showed in every aspect of your life.

You patted Dean's shoulder and he lifted his head slowly.

"You're ready."

"Thanks." He said, standing up. He went to the fridge, walking past Sam, who stared at you in awe, and opened it, without taking anything out. "Want something to drink?" He offered, not moving his head too much.

"Do you have wine?" You asked, politely.

Dean looked at you with a raised eyebrow. "I can offer you beer. Since when do you drink wine?" He replied.

"Since I'm old enough." You answer, matter-of-factly. "Where's my stuff?"

"I left it in our guest room. Down the hallway, to the left, the third door."

"Noted."

Dean grabbed a beer for each of you, and returned to the table. "So... Who was that "babe" you talked to?" His voice was playful and teasing, but Sam knew exactly what was he planning.

"Well, believe it or not- I have a boyfriend." Dean raised his eyebrows with interest, as Sam gave you a tight lipped smile. "It's pretty serious, uh... He proposed two months ago."

"Woah, really?"

"You're getting married?"

You chuckle with a silly smile on your face.

"Yeah, that's why-..." You took a deep breath. "I wasn't going to get married if you weren't there, so I tried to get back in touch, but..."

"But..?" Encouraged Sam, sitting across of you in the table.

"I was afraid you wouldn't want to see me... I kept making excuses, until-...” Your pride -and the pitiful slash guilty looks they were giving you- made you stop talking. “Yea. I mean, I planned many things. Sending a letter, a phone call, maybe just showing up, whatever, but I always backed up at the last minute. I really wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him."

"I like him already." Stated Dean, and your eyebrows raised involuntarily, as the thought  _ ‘I wouldn't be so sure’ _ flashed through your head.

"What's his name?" Asked Sam innocently.

Crap. 

You said you wouldn't  _ lie _ , but if you told them you were dating Crowley right off the hook they were not going to care about anything else you said to them.

"(Y/N)?" Called Dean. Your expression might have been a little too... expressive.

"You don't have to tell us if you don't want."

"But I do want!" You replied. "Let's just-... Start somewhere else."

"Yeah, okay." Nodded Dean, glaring at Sam to make sure he agreed. "How did you met him?"

"In a hunt," you answered, more relaxed now. "Well, before one. Some asshole wouldn't take no for an answer, and he stepped in and told him to kindly fuck off. I thought he was trying to flirt with me too, but apparently it was a coincidence. He was after the same group of demons I was. So, we teamed up. Took care of it with record timing."

"You two sound like a good team." Commented Sam. You smiled. You  _ are _ a good team.

"He's a hunter?" Asked Dean, and your smile dropped.

"Not really."

"But he is a part of the supernatural world." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. You nodded towards Sam.

"Yeah, he is." You repeated, with a tight lipped smile that made them understand that was all they were getting from you.

"...Alright, we'll go back to that later." Decided Dean. "How did you get together?"

"Well, after that first successful hunt, we decided we were going to help each other more often. A lot of stuff happened, and about nine months later I was something like his right-hand woman. We started sleeping together and--...”

“Alright!” Cutted Dean. “I didn’t need to know that.”

“Well, I’m a hunter. The house with a white fence seemed too far away from my reality.”

Dean nodded, still uncomfortable with the image of you in bed with some dude. 

Your other brother wasn’t so focused on the sex part as he was in the house one.

“You live together?”

“We share a house in Manhattan. There’s no fence though, it’s a penthouse.”

"You live in New York?"

"Partially, yeah. When I’m not hunting or working with him.” You spend a big part of your time hunting, and then another equally big part of your remaining time in Hell, so your life there -neighbours, parties, socialitès drama- is not really important to you. "We even have two dogs and everything.”

It wasn't difficult to see that they were impressed. Really, really impressed. You were happy to make them proud, but their quick-growing doubt was stinging in your pride. You had to do something, before the doubt turned to questions and the situation became more tense.

"I've been talking about him since we got here and I still feel like I haven't told you anything," you confessed suddenly.

"You wanna get to the difficult parts now?" Asked Dean, not bothering to hide his curiosity.

"No. I want to talk about the  _ important _ things."

"Like what?" Insisted Sam.

"Like... None of us has the actual time to search for good music, so we both just settle with the songs that are popular at the moment. Uh, and he's really into fashion too, so I can plan matching outfits and he enjoys it, or go shopping together and stuff like that.” You said, rambling. “He's super respectful to me, and he’s always making sure I’m comfortable wherever we go. His sense of humor matches mine. And when I really need him, I know he'll make me his priority." Your smile grew bigger with each word, and neither of your brothers seemed interested in stopping your catharsis. "He’s also amazing at giving gifts. And he can tell instantly if I'm upset. And..." Your pitch lowered as the subject became more serious. "He'll never judge me for the bad stuff I've done, because he's done bad stuff too, so we kinda try to just... Bring out the best of each other. If that makes sense," you added quickly.

"It does," replied Sam. You smiled.

"We-... You should invite him over, for dinner or something. So we can meet him," offered Dean. 

You took a deep breath, your smile dropping a bit. This was going to happen now, there was no way to postpone it. Oh, Hell.

"You already know him."

They both raised their eyebrows importantly. As their gazes met, your brothers started to silently remember every person they could think of, not counting hunters, that were a part of the supernatural world.

"You're dating a Man of Letters, (Y/N)?" Asked Dean.

Sam gaped his mouth open when he connected the dots. His neck snapped in your direction so he could stare at you, in shock.

"Really?"

"No!" You exclaimed, before they could continue with their reasonings. "He's not... human."

Dean's face went form surprised to angry in 0.2 seconds. Sam instinctively looked at him, knowing his reaction was not going to be pleasant.

"Excuse me?"

"Dean, listen, I-..."

"What-... Who is he, (Y/N)?" Interrupted Sam.

"Crowley."

"WHAT!?!" Shouted your eldest brother, standing up. Oh Hell, this is bad. "Crowley, as in ' _ The King of Hell _ '?"

"Yes."

"Call him here. Now." 

You felt your eyes starting to tear up. Everything you feared was happening. But you weren't going to cry.

"Dean..." Tried Sam, standing up from his chair too, but Dean ignored him.

"So you can shoot him?" You replied, not moving from your seat. "No, thank you."

"If you don't call him in this instant I will summon him myself."

"Dean, I'm sorry, but I'm not going to let you do that," you informed, and then continued, "not until you've calmed down, at least." 

Sam tried to step in, but the words refused to pull themselves together in an order that made sense. Dean had started pacing around, and even when you hadn't even raised your voice, he could tell perfectly that you were equally upset and worried.

"Are you serious, (Y/N)? He's a demon!"

"I'm aware of that." 

"And not just any demon, the King of Hell himself!" He continued. 

"Yes, I know. He's a demon, he's bad, he's going to betray me, blah blah blah. I don't care."

Crap. You were trying really hard to stay calm, but it was harder than you'd imagined.

"He's lying to you! He's using you, you just can't see it!"

"What do you know?" You snapped, hitting the table. "He loves me, and I love him. He has proved it many times. I'm not dumb, Dean."

"You don't know him like we do, sweetheart. He's evil. He's just doing this to get back to us."

"First of all, that's literally impossible because we met before he met you two. And second, I've been living with him for years now! We worked together before we started dating. If he wanted to use me, he didn't had to go through all of this."

"That too!" He recalled. "You worked for him!?"

"We worked _ together, _ yes. Could you calm down now?"

" _ Calm do- _ .!? Calm down!? Of course not! Sam, back me up here." He ordered.

"Uh..." Started Sam, hesitating. "Maybe- Uh, maybe we could try to talk to him, y'know, over dinner, like you said..."

"I said that when I thought he was some random dude! He's a demon, we're hunters; we just don't get along!" Interrupted Dean, and while he yelled, you met Sam's gaze and thanked him silently.

"Well, we're getting married, so I wouldn't be so sure about that."

Dean snapped at the mention of marriage. He stopped pacing, looked at Sam, who was frozen in his place, and then looked back at you. "There is no way in Hell that I'm letting you marry a demon."

"You don't have to let me, Dean, I don't need permission."

"I'll just kill him then!" He replied.

Your heart stopped beating for a moment. Then, it started again, getting faster and stronger. You shot up from your seat as your face got red, and punched the table before you growled.

"Don't  _ even think _ about it." He stared at you, realizing that he had gone too far. Sam swallowed hard. "I won't let you hurt him. Is that clear?"

"(Y/N), it's okay," said Sam, before Dean could continue to argue with you. "We won't hurt Crowley." 

You let out the air you were holding in your lungs, relieved, but not less angry. Dean turned his face to Sam, who had taken a step forward and now standed closer to you.

"Are you crazy?" He asked.

"No. I don't like the idea either but she's not naive," Sam faced you again, and continued. "Even when we were kids, no one could lie to you. If you say he's trustworthy, I believe you."

You thanked him silently, and he nodded. Then, he turned around, ready to leave, but instead gave Dean a warning stare, and then left, not before making sure his brother had gotten the idea: "Get over it."

#  Chapter 5: 3045 words.

"(Y/N), listen, I don't want to fight with you," he insisted, "but Sam and I, we-"

"I know, your experiences with demons have never been good," you interrupted, "I get it. I'm not expecting you to accept it instantly." Dean looked at his feet, and then you again, his fists unclenching. "But, please, give me some credit. If he were trying to use me, I would know. We've been together for years now. We have a life together, and I think..."

"What?"

"I think this is it, Dean."

His eyes opened, in surprise. But then, he sighed and walked over to you, pulling you into a tight hug.

You stood shocked for a second before giving in. 

Without pulling away, he asked:

"Are you sure?" 

"I told you two the truth about my life and my relationship. All of it was real." You sighed, and hid your head further in his neck. "I'm sure."

"I know I'm gonna regret this-..." He muttered, before putting his hands in your shoulders and looking deep into your eyes. He inhaled, reuniting courage, and continued, "but I support you."

Your eyes lighted up with happiness. 

"Really?"

"Yes. I guess, from all the people that have tried to kill me, he's the less evil one."

You rolled your eyes, and he limited himself to smirk at you.

"He didn't knew you were my brothers back then. I only told him after our first year as a couple."

His smile dropped, and his eyebrows furrowed.

"You told him who you were after  _ a year _ ?" He asked, shocked.

"Well, yeah. Like I said, I'm not dumb." You turned around, and walked to the table again. "I know better than just drop my last name around. It almost got me killed many times." You picked up your untouched beer, as you sat on the table. "He didn't got mad, he said..."

"Listen, (Y/N)," Dean said, snapping you out of your daydreaming, "I'm not gonna lie to you: I don't like this whole situation. Damn, I don't like it a little bit."  _ Oh God _ , you thought,  _ this is it. He's going to tell me I'm a disgrace to the family, and an embarrassment for all hunters.  _ "But I trust you. Still, I need time. We need to go slower than this. Can we do that?" You nodded energetically. Anything to keep your brothers in your life. "We can have that dinner, but not now. Let me just... get used to the idea. Okay?"

"'Kay."

"Now I'm going to bed, and I'll give you the tour tomorrow."

You took the beer with you as you left the kitchen, from where he went to his own room, as you walked a little bit further to yours.

.

.

.

You only woke up, to your surprise, after Sam knocked on your door for a few minutes. You usually would be up by 7, but today was 11 thirty and you still wanted to get five more minutes.

The two of you made your way back to the kitchen, where you ran into Dean, who was making a soya latte for you. Well,  _ attempting _ to. When your eyes met, he took a step back and nearly shouted "I give up!", before throwing his hands in the air, exasperated.

Sam chuckled, entertained, while you went to the mug and continued your drink.

"It's practice, you know," you explained to your eldest brother, when he was already sitting down with his own coffee, "you'll get the hang of it in no time. I mean, you've always been good at cooking."

Dean smiled proudly at your comment, and Sam's eyebrows furrowed for a second. He didn't really remember much from when you were kids, but you did, even when you were many years younger than him.

Luckily for you, Dean had learned with Sammy how to take care of a baby, so when your mother died, exactly ten months after you were born, you were sent to John, your dad, to take care of you, thing that Dean did in his place.

Your first word had been  _ Dean _ , and your first steps were in Sam's direction, coming from Dean's arms. You had an adoration for Sam that made you and Dean get along way too much. Because yeah, to your father, Dean was a soldier, and Sam was a kid to protect, but you were just a burden. 

As you dropped the milk into the mug, your phone ringed in your room. You turned around, tempted to get it, but your hands were a little too busy with the burning hot liquid.

"I'll get it." Said Dean, and left the kitchen, before you could tell him not to pick up.

You finished your latte and went after him, just to bump into his chest after a step outside the door.

He handed over the cellphone, and shrugged. "No one answers". In the screen, the name 'Mara' shined brightly.

Instead of hanging up, you put it on your ear and tried yourself.

"Hello?"

"Oh my-..! Queen, are you alright?" She asked, fear audible in her voice.

"Why wouldn't I be, dear?" 

Dean frowned. Why hadn't they spoken to him?

"Dean Winchester answered your phone! I thought you had been kidnapped, or worse!"

You turned around and went back to your coffee. You were going to need it.

"Yes, it was him indeed. But I'm not in danger. You don't have to worry about it."

After a second of silence, she continued, nervous.

"I know this is none of my business, and I'm out of place here but I'd like to ask you, your Highness, how are you and the Winchesters..."

"They are my brothers." An horrified gasp was heard on the other end of the line. "Now I trust you'll keep this information to yourself, since that is the only reason why I told you. Is that clear?" 

To say that they were impressed was to say too little. Because it was almost like hearing a completely different person. The girl talking on the phone was nothing like the girl that had screamed along to Dean's music on the travel there.

"Yes, my Queen."

"Now, why did you call?" You asked, as you took a long sip. You were expecting a drop on deals, since you had cancelled a week worth of meetings, but that's not what you got.

"Just to remind you of the Duval's Gala, that will be celebrated tonight at-..."

"Fuck!" You exclaimed, spitting your coffee and soaking your shirt. Sam and Dean watched you with both eyes wide open, surprised. "That's today?" You confirmed, wiping the coffee off your face with your hand.

"Yes, the King said you had probably forgotten and asked me to tell you that he did not intend to go."

"He  _ what? _ " You repeated, raising your eyebrows. Your brothers watched you, shifting between confusion and shock. "Did everyone lost their minds after I left?"

"Uh... I'm sorry, I don't know how to respond to that-..."

You cut her off again.

"Is he busy right now?"

"I think he just left a meeting."

"Good. I'll call you back." 

And with that, you hung up. Dean was ready to ask about the call, but you raised your hand in a 'wait a second' gesture and he remained silent. You typed the phone number of your lover and waited, impatient.

"Butterfly?"

"I don't have time for your nicknames, Crowley:  _ What in the Hell _ ?"

"Forgive me dear, but I'm not sure what are you referring to."

"The Duval's Gala, you idiot! That's today!"

"I am aware, yes. Did Mara not told you?"

"She told me, yes, that's why I'm calling. But the thing is,  _ she said you were not going _ ." You hissed, a few steps from losing your cool.

"Well, darling, you are busy reconnecting with your family, and I'm not going alone, so-..."

"God almighty, how did you run hell when I wasn't there?" You muttered, exasperation dripping on your voice. 

"I ask m-..."

" _ Not the time for a pick up line, sweetie. _ " You warned, as the boys shared surprised looks. "We  _ have _ to go to that crap."

"Why is that?"

"Allow me to repeat myself: The Duval's Gala." No response. "The gala... Given by the Duvals. Ring any bells?" A gasp followed by a growl and then death silence was all the answer you got. "That's what I thought. We can't miss it."

"No, dear, you stay there. I'll go by myself."

"You can't show up alone, they'll eat you alive!"

"I don't bloody care what they think!"

"I know you don't! You think  _ I _ do? But everyone there will expect to see both of us, and we can't afford to lose credibility right now."

"It's just a bunch of socialités, what harm can they do?"

"Crowley, the last time you said that, Thadeo almost took over Hell." You pointed out.

"Crisis that we handled marvellously, if I remember correctly. Besides, I don't want Moose and Squirrel to think I'm taking you away from them."

"Okay, although it's sweet of you to think about my brothers," you said, your voice high pitched from stress, as the mentioned traded curious looks, "right now, it's not the moment." You added, frustrated.

"I think I'm missing your point here, butterfly."

" _ Obviously _ ." You snapped back, before sighing tired. "My point is, I'm coming with you."

"And I guess I don't really have a say in that now, do I?" He tried to tease.

"No, not really." 

"Alright then. What are you wearing?"

"The red Ziad Nakad we got last year."

"I'll get a suit with matching colors. Will you pick the dress up or should I send someone?"

You glanced over at your brothers, who hadn't moved their eyes from you at any time. After all, everything felt the same when you were hanging around with them, but when it came to your Hellish-Business, you behaved in a really different way than the girl they knew.

"Send Aaron, and tell him to knock. I also need my stuff, since I'm planning on staying here a while, so..."

"I'll send them right away. What about Regina?"

Your mouth fell a little open, now feeling terrible about forgetting your hellhound. It had been Crowley's gift for your first anniversary, (the day you told him your name was not Tabitha, and the day you decided you were not going to use that name anymore), when she was just a puppy. 

She definitely wasn't a puppy anymore, and she spent most of the time sleeping in the throne room, but she was still your pet, and a part of your family. But, sadly, there was another factor.

"She can't come, she'll give them a heart attack." 

"I understand. She, on the other hand, might not be so reasonable."

"It's a dog, Crowley, damn right she won't be."

He chuckled at your remark, charmed as always with your humor.

"I gotta go, love. Take care."

"You too, love ya."

As you put your phone on your pocket, you realized your coffee was almost cold, and your brothers were almost catatonic.

"Are you two okay?" You asked, smirking. You watched them as they tried to pull all their questions in order, because with every passing second, they realized how different your life, and yourself, were from the last time they had seen you.

Sam was the first one to realize it was easier for all of you if you explained first, leaving the questions for later. So, instead of asking what was really making him curious, he casually dropped, "What was that all about?"

You smiled.

"I had forgotten about a very important, very exclusive and very annoying party we were invited to, and sadly, I  _ have _ to go. Which does not makes me happy, at all."

Even when that did explain most of the situation, that was a really vague response and they were not satisfied with it.

"Why do you have to go?" Insisted Dean, finishing his coffee. At this rate, yours was going to be frozen when you could actually drink it.

"Well, a lot of important people will be there. People whose souls are worthless, so it's my job to find them a different use before their ten years are up.”

“You make deals now?” He questioned, and you sighed. 

“No. They already made deals. Now I'm going to offer them a way out that benefits both parties involved.” Sam shifted his gaze to Dean, who watched you mouth dropped. Deals were a touchy subject, even after all this years. “Are you okay with that?”

“I guess,” he said, after looking at the ceiling for a couple of seconds. More than sarcastic, it sounded resigned.

“You're basically saving those people from going to hell, right?”

You let out a slow and bitter laugh as your head shook no.

“Yes, but not really. Most of them will go to hell for their own merits.” You corrected. “But, well, that's one way of putting it. A very optimistic way.” 

Sam nodded, but Dean didn't move. 

Fuck you and your damned tongue. Of course, you had decided that lying was not an option. But nothing was stopping you from noticing  _ which _ parts of information could they handle at the moment.

“When are you leaving?” Asked Sam, attempting to lift the mood a little.

Dean locked his eyes on you, in a way that said he wanted to know too. With the green orbs still glued to you, you sat back on the table, with your cold coffee in your hands.

“At eight, probably. I need to wait for Aaron to bring me my stuff and then get ready, so I think I'll start at six thirty.”

“It's barely noon.” Commented Dean, but it sounded like a question.

“Well,” you replied, “have any plans?”

Sam shook no with his head, and you smiled.

“Then who’s up for a movie marathon?”

.

.

.

“Oh, Hell no!” You shouted, slapping the disk out of Dean’s hands. He let out a whiny  _ ‘Hey!’ _ , but tried to put it on again. In a second, you jumped out of the bed and stood on his way, stopping him. “No way Dean, I’m sorry.”

“Why not? Clint Eastwood is a genius!”

You rolled your eyes, annoyed. 

“We are not watching another one of those.” Said Sam, sitting up.

“Then what do you suggest?” He replied, offended, as he dropped his weight back to the bed. You grabbed the pile of movies and imitated him, sitting in the middle of them.

“Oh! What about Taken?” You suggested. You needed to get in the badass mood, so why not, right? 

“I thought you hated those movies.” 

You glanced at Sam, who was looking at you with his eyebrows raised.

“I like the first one.” You said, but before you could continue, a sound interrupted you. Your phone. “What now!?” You growled.

Sam chuckled at your annoyance and handed the device over to you. In the screen, a text notification. “I’m outside”, from Aaron.

“My stuff arrived. I gotta go get it.” You informed, walking out of Sam’s room. After one second, you turned around and entered the room again. Your brothers watched you confused. “I don’t remember how to get to the door.”

Dean snorted, left the movies in their box and motioned you to follow him. When the two of you got to the war room, he stood casually under the stairs as you headed to the door.

The sunlight blinded you for a second, but your sight got used to it quickly and you recognized Aaron, standing in a black suit and sunglasses, with your dress in one hand and your suitcase in the other.

“Afternoon, boss.” 

His -well, not  _ his _ \- eyes were covered but you could still see his black pupils. You had learned recently that it’s uncomfortable for some demons to stay with human eyes for too long, so you didn’t mind it. His skin was dark and clean of imperfections, with a groomed beard enhancing his cheekbones. That boy had been a homeless person who died during winter, and before his corpse was found, Aaron took it. You had asked him and some other demons, the closest to you, to at least try to find empty vessels after your first years. Time in hell was different from up here, so you it was hard to keep track of how long you had been their queen.

“Aaron. Thank you.” You said, when he handed over your belongings. “Anything else?”

His attention went visibly to the door behind you, but he remained silent.  _ Here we go again, _ you thought.

“I trust you, Aaron, and I expect you to do the same.” You stated. He nodded and you continued. “Ask away. I can tell you’re curious.”

“Isn’t this the Winchester’s bunker?” You nodded with a kind smile. “Are you working with them?”

“Not exactly. My relationship with them is not related to Hell.” He nodded again, as he decided not to insist, even when he was more curious now. “They are my brothers.”

He tried to disimule the surprise, but he was too in shock to realize he wasn’t really hiding anything. Suddenly, his expression changed into a tenser one. You realized, for your distress, that he was staring at something -someone- behind you.

“I shall be going. Enjoy your evening,” he stated, and then disappeared before you could even react.

“You scared my assistant, Dean,” you said, not even bothering to turn around. His laugh reached your ears through the warm breeze. 

“I’m not really sorry. I just wanted to see who this Alex was.”

“It’s Aaron,” you corrected with a smirk, as you turned around to head back inside.

“Whatever. Need help with that?”

“Yes please.”

#  Chapter 6:

With half of your belongings in your hands and half on Dean’s you headed to your room. At some point Sam joined the two of you, and helped to get you settled in. But, halfway through the first suitcase, an alarm went off on your phone, indicating 6:30 p.m.

“I’m going to take a shower, guys. We'll finish later?”

“What? No, don't worry!” Said Dean, with a slightly exaggerated...  _ Everything _ . “We can finish for you, you go do your thing.”

Sam seemed taken off guard, but he recovered in a second. You, on the other hand, weren't fooled.

“You are just looking for an excuse to go through my stuff, aren't you?” You asked, with a «not buying it» expression.

“Uh-...”

You smirked.  _ Busted _ .

“It's cool.” They both looked equally confused now. “As long as you do some actual unpacking in between, go ahead.”

“Are you sure?” “Really?” They said, accidentally speaking over each other.

“Yeah, ‘ve got nothing to hide.” You declared. “Where's the bathroom again?”

.

.

.

“ _ I’m sorry, the old Y/N can't come to the phone right now. Why? _ ” You sang, blending the base and the corrector with a brush. “ _ Oh! Because she's dead! _ ”

Music always put you in the mood to do more a heavy makeup. Your brothers, standing in the door frame, obviously weren’t getting the badass vibes.

“ _ What... _ are you doing?”

You eyed Dean, trying not to move too much.

“Contour.”

“Oh. Have you ever done it before?”

“Dean!” Scolded Sam immediately.

“It’s not done yet,” you smiled calmly. “When I finish...”

“Woah! Is that your dress?”

The people who can get away with interrupting you can be counted with your fingers in one hand. Sam was one of those exceptions, you realized, when you found yourself putting down the brush and turning the chair around to see him.

Your brothers were staring at one of the most expensive dresses they’d ever seen. Not that they knew that.

“What do you think?”

“It’s... red. And, fancy,” muttered Dean.

“It’s beautiful.” You smiled, thankful. “It does seem kinda expensive, too.”

You laughed before turning back to the mirror. “Kinda.”

“So, we were wondering,” started Sam, while Dean studied the jewelry incrustrations in the fabric, “cause based on what we heard, it sounded like this party could be dangerous- But, just  _ how _ dangerous? Deadly or..?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” Sam sighed silently, almost relieved, “we have security, I'll be fine.”

“What kind of security?” Insisted Dean, looking at you faked disinterest.

“There's the party's security system and guards, of course, and we have a few demons inside just in case, plus all the protection spells I have on...” You counted, ”I'll be fine. I promise.”

Dean nodded, and you continued with your contour. The brush was putting up a fight, though, so you switched to your...

“Where's my blender?”

“Your what?”

You chuckled before explaining. “It's a little sponge, pink but with stains of makeup. Have you seen it?”

Sam handed it to you and you returned your focus to the mirror.

“So we have nothing to worry about?” He insisted.

“Nothing at all.” Whatever he was thinking, he didn't let it show. “Did you guys found anything interesting in my bags?”

“No,” attempted to say Sam, but Dean cut him off in the middle of his sentence. 

“Yeah, actually-...” You hummed a little  _ ‘uh?’  _ of encouragement, and he continued, “What’s up with the crown?”

You nearly stab yourself in the eye with the beauty blender.  _ He sent the crown? Seriously!? _

“Uh- Wow. I didn’t expect that to be there. Jesus, I  _ really  _ did not expect that to be there.” But now that you thought about it, you were supposed to wear it to the gala, which is exactly why Crowley sent it.  _ Duh _ . “I mean, I usually wear it for events, so- Okay, I should have seen that coming. But yeah, basically, it's for events, or meetings or stuff.”

“So you  _ really  _ are the Queen of Hell,” said Dean. You couldn't read what he was feeling, and that was making you nervous.

“Yes.”

"Wow."

"Is that a good  _ wow _ or a bad  _ wow _ ?" You asked, anxious.

He looked at you, almost confused.

"Good wow."

"Good wow," you repeated, "Thank God. It's gotta be a lot, I'm sorry I couldn't ease you two into it."

  
  
  
  



	2. the queen - scraps

**post gala scene:**

Two pairs of steps were heard coming down the stairs, sound that drawn both of the Winchesters to the war room, with their guns out.

“This is getting ridiculous!” You shouted, your voice high-pitched from the exasperation. You hadn’t seen them yet, too annoyed to notice your brothers. On the other hand, your brothers didn’t even noticed your companion, too focused on your wounds to pay attention to anything else. “It’s the  _ third _ kidnap attempt this week! It’s not even funny anymore! Is it so hard to come up with something more original?”

“(Y/N)?! Are you alright?” Asked Dean, putting the gun in the back of his pants and running to your side. Your dress was covered in blood -not really visible, thanks to its color,- and a lot of small cuts and bruises, that were starting to sting really bad.

“What happened?” Insisted Sam. 

When Dean got to you, Crowley took a step back. Your brother only saw him after he had scanned your body looking for a life-threatening injury under your lover’s jacket; something he didn’t found.

“And what his  _ he _ doing here?” He hissed.

“Be nice!” You asked. “He wanted to make sure nothing else happened to me.”

“Nothing  _ else _ ?’ Repeated Sam, as Dean stared at you fiance, annoyed. 

“Some rebel demons tried to kidnap me. Again. It’s getting boring, to be honest.”

“Kidnap you?”

“ _ Again?” _ Asked Dean, alarmed, and speaking over Sam, who didn’t seem to mind.

“Since my presence here is no longer required,” started Crowley, with a blank expression and a snarky tone, “I shall be going. Feel better soon, love.”

Before he could snap himself away, you placed your hand on his crossed arms, smiling warmly. The cut on his cheekbone continued to bleed, and you were starting to believe would need stitches.

“Thank you.”

“Any time, dear.” And with that love-filled look still on his eyes, he disappeared into thin air.

“Really, Y/N?”

“Yes, Dean. Really,” You replied, rolling your eyes slowly, “Do you have something to clean these cuts up?”

“Come on, I have a first aid kit on the bathroom.”

“Thanks.”

Holding on to his shoulder, 

**Dinner:**

“I look ridiculous.”

“Stop that! You look great.”

“They’ll think I’m trying to impress them.”

“And you aren’t?”

“They don’t need to know that!”

Your expression went blank suddenly.

“Don’t yell at me.”

“I’m sorry. It’s not your fault," Crowley sighed. Knowing he'd learn his lesson, you went back to your soft smile.

“And besides: You look very handsome tonight. I really appreciate that you’re doing this. At least  _ one _ of you is making an effort.”

“I’m sure your brothers are trying too. Just give them a little more time, pet. You know better than I do how stubborn can you Winchesters be. Specially Dean.”

“You love Dean.”

“What can I say? I like the guy.”

You chuckled, and Crowley captured your hand in his.

“He reminds me of you.”

Your eyes met for a moment, but you both remained silent. At least, until he whispered; “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“ _ Crowley _ .”

Your eyes met Dean's, who was soon after joined by Sam. He had probably seen you two flirt and raced towards here, leaving your brother behind.

Without missing a beat, Crowley let go of your hand casually and replied, as nicely as he could:

“Gentlemen. It’s nice to see you.”

“Hi guys. Thanks for coming,” you smiled, trying to get Dean to make eye contact with you.

The green orbs were fixated on the demon, however, and he completely missed your attempt to catch his attention.

“Of course, Y/N. How are you?” Asked Sam, sitting down in the chair across from Crowley.

He didn't want to, but if Dean sat there there was no way of knowing how long he'd behave. 

“We’re fine, how about you two?”

“Good. We're good.  _ Right _ , Dean?” Sam asked, a small threat hiding in his words.

Dean sighed and, looking at you, he sat down in the remaining chair.

“Yeah, we're good.”

“Sorry we're late, by the way,” added Sam, “we had trouble finding the place.”

You smiled, allowing yourself to relax a little.

“Yeah, it's kinda elusive- It's safer that way.”

“Oh. Yeah. Makes sense,” said Sam, nodding. He was  _ so _ not used to this lifestyle, and much less in seeing  _ you _ in this lifestyle, that he found himself at a loss for words more often than not. 

However, he tried. You could never thank him enough for that.

A waiter came to your table carrying four menus.

“Good evening. Do you know what you're going to order, or would you prefer to take a look first?”

“We'll look, thank you,” you said, and she handed a menu to each one of you, before turning around and walking back inside the kitchen. Your brothers were completely out of their element, and since Crowley was trying not to impose himself too much, it was up to you to take control of the situation.

The items on the menu matched the expensiveness of the rest of the place, which piqued Sam's interest and made Dean frown more and more the further he read.

“Is there anything in here that costs less than two hundred dollars?” He questioned, annoyed.

“You can order off menu- Here's only fancy food, as long as it's not crazier than any of this, they'll make it,” you replied, “and by the way, the tab is on me, did I mention?”

Dean made sense to your words and then he shook his head. Sam, foreseeing what was coming, swallowed hard as he pretended to be captivated by the menu.

“We can pay for our food, (Y/N),” Dean said, the real meaning of his words almost too obvious.

“I know you can, but I also know that thanks  _ to you _ I got everything I needed when I was a kid, so this is basically retribution for that.”

"You don't have to."

"Oh, I know that. I don't care, though."

Sam huffed a laugh, but all Dean did was sigh in surrender.

_ This is going to be harder than I thought. _

**Get together:**

The first few times we slept together, I'd always ran off through some back door before he could wake up. 

The  _ very _ first time, though, he showed up to our morning conference hung over, tired and without shaving. And, as the evil fucker I am, I mocked him and asked if he had a fun night. He replied he did, and I continued then by asking him if the girl looked as bad as he did.

He sighed and said, "Wish I could tell you, darling. She ran off."

The next morning, the same thing happened: I ran off, I mocked him at the morning meeting and he told me -and all the other demons in the room- about this girl who always left him before he'd wake up.

It became a thing, sleep together and wake up in different places, and then talk about it in front of twelve other people.

And one day, after maybe two weeks of repeating the same routine, the conversation took a different turn.

"You know?" He commented, ignoring my mocking question, "I'm starting to feel she's just trying to play with me."

"Why do you think that?"

"She always leaves."

"Well, did you ever asked her to stay?"

He kept silent for a couple seconds, realizing I had a marvelous point.

"I think I'll try that, dear."

"Happy to help."

................................................................................

You back fell softly on the silk sheets, your breathing hurried, and your eyelids heavy. Still, a playful smirk settled on your face.

"(Y/N)?" Called Crowley's voice, making you turn your head to your left. He was laying on his side, his face facing yours in a slightly concerned expression. The conversation you had in the morning came back to you suddenly, but you didn't said anything. "Don't leave, love. Please."

You frowned. You weren't expecting him to actually ask you.

"Is that what you really want, Crowley?"

"More than anything."

You turned your entire body around to face him completely.

"I'm sorry.” Now you felt bad. And heartless. “I thought..." Your voice died out. What were you going to tell him?

"What, love?"

"Oh, you know...” You replied, frowning through your embarrassment.

“You thought I didn't want you to stay?”

"To put it short, yeah."

A sad smile formed on his face.

His hand caressed your cheek as his eyes looked for permission to kiss you again. You smiled as a response and he pulled your lips together, gently crashing against each other's. 

When you separated, he asked you something that caught you off guard.

“Would you like to come with me to the party at Romans Inc.?”

**Death Anniversary:**

Two years. Two years since that night. Two years since Liam. Two...

You take another sip of your whiskey while staring at the wall. Only two years...

It still hurt, a lot, maybe even more than before. 

He wanted you to teach him how to defend himself, and you refused. And if he had known how to defend himself, he would be alive. It was your fault. 

And that hurt a lot.

“Tabitha, dear, I think you’ve had enough to drink,” said Crowley, coming literally out of nowhere.

Or maybe he had been there a while. You wouldn't have noticed.

“Then we can agree to disagree.”

He went to tease you, but he stopped when he saw your teary eyes. 

“What happened, darling? Are you alright?”

“M’fine. Be quiet,” you ordered.

“I'm going to take you home now, okay?”

“No! I can't leave now, I-...” Your mumbling became incomprehensible before you could finish your sentence. Instead of repeating your words, you poured yourself another drink.

“Fine, listen. You let me take you home, and I let you bring the bottle. Deal?”

“Sh-...Ya wanna make a deal?” You asked, dragging the words. He nodded. “A’igth,” you said, and crashed your lips to his.

After a second of freezing shock, he pulled back. You frowned, confused and almost hurt.  _ What? _ You weren't good enough for him? 

Well,  _ fuck him _ .

“What? I-n't that how deals are made? Or...” your voice was interrupted by its own shaking. “Or you don't play for my team? Is that it?”

He raised his eyebrows, slightly surprised by the accusation.

“Dear, you are drunk,” he explained, patiently, “I would gladly return the gesture if the situation was different.”

You laughed bitterly. Liam was still on the corners of your mind. 

Crowley took the bottle of whiskey and, putting his hand on your shoulder, he zapped both of you to a place you'd later identify as his penthouse. 

“Wh-..?”

“We made a deal, didn't we?” He said, practically dragging you to the king size bed, “You went home, and I brought your cheap alcohol.”

“‘S-... Not cheap,” You growled, as he dropped you on the edge of the bed.

He tried to let go of your waist, from where he held you to guide your body, but you didn't let him.

You clawed your fingers to his jacket, which was probably more expensive than your entire belongings, and dragged him into the bed with you. He tried to argue, but your lips devoured his in a desperate hunger.

He allowed you to take his jacket off, but the second his arms were free again, you found yourself tied with it, unable to move your arms.

“What the...!?  _ Crowley!” _ You roared, drunk, angry and hurting.

“Tabitha, you don't want to do this,” he said, as he made a second knot on the jacket. 

“But I  _ do _ want... And I know you want it too...” you purred, turning around to meet his face. Crowley’s eyes were dark with desire, yet a frown rested above them. “Please, just...”

“Even if I want it...” He said, not willing yet to admit it, “you're drunk. You are not in conditions to give consent, darling.” He decided. “So you're going to sleep this off, and then we can forget about it.”

You felt insulted. He was rejecting you like you were some-...  _ Fuck! _ Like you weren't hot enough or something. If you couldn't get a demon to have sex with you, how'd you ever find someone again? Tears piled up in your eyes as your thoughts keep racing through your head, darker and darker every time. Maybe you deserved to be rejected. You had gotten Liam killed, the only guy you had loved, and you let him die. 

Crowley realized suddenly that you were drinking for a reason, as you started sobbing disgracefully. 

“Dear, what is it?” He asked, concerned. His voice was soft and calming, but not enough.

You killed Liam. It was  _ your _ fault. Wherever he was, he was probably hating you. 

“I'm so sorry...” Your voice was a whisper, not intended to anyone but  _ him _ to hear. Crowley did anyways.

“Butterfly, talk to me. What happened?”

You raised your head and your eyes meet his. Did he really wanted to know?

Were you really going to tell him?

And you did. You told him, between cries and tears, a story about a hunter and a victim who fell in love and decided to start a new life together. You told him how you had refused to train him to defend himself and how he went on a food run and never came back. You knew exactly what had happened, he hadn’t been the first victim. But you called someone else to take care of it, and they didn't make it on time.

You told him it was all your fault. You told him you missed Liam, and you were lonely and you hated your job. 

And he untied you and put you to bed, as he sat besides you, stroking your hair until you fell asleep. 

**Brotherly Argument:**

"You want to think you love her more than I do? _ Fine! _ You can believe what you want. But don't think for  _ one second _ that you know her better than me, because I know her better than I know myself!"

“What could  _ you _ know that we don't? We're her brothers!”

“You are brothers to a scared girl that disappeared years ago,” growled the demon. “Do you have the slightest idea of how far she's come? You knew her when she was a victim, this (Y/N) is a complete stranger to both of you!”

“Listen--!”

“No, YOU listen. She's spent the last seven years terrified of what would happen if she came back, and  _ this _ ,” Crowley motioned to the three of them, in an angry gesture, “was her biggest fear. I'm not going to add more problems to her life.”  _ Stop screaming _ , he told himself.  _ For (Y/N), stop screaming _ . “Demons under our charge are not allowed to hurt either you two or any other hunter unless it's for self defense, and I'm willing to be civilian around you two. I've moved on from our past disagreements. And you'll have to get over it too, because I'm not going anywhere any time soon.”

“I don't care how long you have been in her life,” started Dean, menacingly, “we are her  _ brothers _ . You think you can compete against that?”

Crowley’s angry face was replaced by an expression of confusion, followed by yet another frown.

“Are you seriously  _ that _ stupid?” He made a pause. (Y/N) wasn't gonna be happy with his choice of words. “I don't have to  _ compete _ against you two! And you don't have to compete against me either, you morons. (Y/N) loves you. And the only person who can change that is you, not me. You're her family. Act like it.”

Sam looked at Dean, but didn't said anything. He knew the demon was right. 

Dean didn't looked back at him. He just stared at Crowley, his eyes filled with rage. Well, not exactly rage. More than pissed he was hurt, and kinda disappointed at himself for thinking that his soon-to-be  _ -God forbid- _ brother in law was right.

**Drugged Scene:**

“Babee...” You cried out, your head dizzy from the spell. “I want my baby, I miss him!”

Your brothers traded awkward looks. 

“Hello, boys.”

Their gazes went immediately to the bedroom’s door. The was no mistaking that accent.

“Crowley.”

“Ah, don't look at me like that. She's the one who called!” His smirk dropped when he saw you. “Is she okay?”

“Yeah, don't worry. Side effects of the cure for a curse.” Explained Sam, leaving his spot at the side of the bed. “She just needs to rest.”

“Then what is she doing awake?” He replied, trying to hide his concern with snark.

“She refuses to go to sleep.” Dean watched closely at the demon as he walked to the place Sam had just left. 

(Y/N), oblivious to everything and everyone, stared at the ceiling with a pout on her lips.

“Why?” Asked Crowley.

“Babe?” 

Dean looked at him with a face that said ‘ _ there's your answer _ ’, before joining his brother, who was standing silently in front of the door.

“Yes, pet?”

Your face was no longer just a pout, but you were full on sobbing now.

“You’ve gotta tell ‘em to forgive me.” Your voice was drowsy, you were dragging the words and mispronouncing everything, but he heard it. 

So did they.

“Tell who?”

You didn't really answered his question. All you did was sit up in bed and start crying.

“They must hate me!”

Ignoring the Winchesters -who were now on edge, ready to stab, shoot and kill whoever needed to make her feel better, and definitely  _ not _ prepared to accept the fact that all the deaths in the world couldn't make a difference- Crowley sat on the bed by your side. 

“Love, what do you mean? Who hates you?”

He wished his instincts betrayed him for the first time. He wished to be wrong.

You looked up and met his eyes, and the second your orbs matched the black ones, -those you knew so well, that felt like home,- you practically climbed into his lap and hid in his chest, crying even harder.

Crowley didn't insist, and instead just let you discharge your feelings. After a few minutes, you whispered:

“I can't go back, I left ‘em.”

Crowley turned to see them involuntarily.

He  _ was _ right after all. 

Dean's hands turned into fists as Sam bit his lip.

“(Y/N), they’re not mad at you, remember?”

“We're here, (Y/N). It's okay.” Tried to soothe you Sam. You looked at him, confused. 

“It's all good. It wasn't your fault, sweetheart.”

“B- But...” Your face turned to Crowley’s, and you forgot (yet again) who were you really talking to. “I left ‘em! And I coulda- I  _ shouldda _ come back, and  _ I didn't _ and I'm...”

“You did what you had to do, love, in order to survive.”

“But tha- _ s _ not an excuse and they must hate me so  _ much how could I do this to them..! _ ”

“Woah, woah, (Y/N), love, don’t say that about yourself. They’re your brothers, (Y/N), they don’t hate you.”

“No?”

“They forgave you.”

“I... Don't deserve 't. I'm jus- ...Gonna hur'em again. Like Liam.”

Crowley sighed, and shook his head.

“What happened to Liam wasn't your fault, (Y/N). You know that.”

“Yes it was. I killed him.”

“No, (Y/N), you didn't.” When he saw you preparing to argue, he insisted, “Did you sent those vampires after him?”

You shook your head, pouting.

“Did you shoot him?” Another shake. “Did you had any way to know what would happen?” 

“No.”

“Then it isn't your fault, (Y/N).” You took a deep breath, and the air got stuck in your throat for a second. “You need to sleep now.”

“...Okay.”

Dean frowned even more.  _ Really? Just like that? She would do whatever Crowley told her, but she wouldn't listen to them at all? _

He knew he shouldn't be mad, but he couldn't help it. Bad deep down, he knew he wasn't mad. He was jealous.

You laid down on the bed and Crowley pulled your covers up to your neck.

“Sleep, love. I'll be here when you wake up.”

_ No you won't _ , Dean wanted to say. But he didn't. Cause he couldn't, not if he wanted to find out who the hell Liam was.

"Don't leave me," you whispered, right before drifting off to sleep.

Crowley stood up and turned to the Winchesters.

"By the look on your faces, you don't have a clue who Liam was, I assume."


	3. the queen - media

  
my laptop's broken rn and i don't have access to all my files, so once it's fixed i'll post everything i made for this. for now, enjoy the playlist on spotify. the link's also in the comments if you can't get it from here for some reason.

https://open.spotify.com/user/hullabalxo/playlist/5xXe1Ev51caBTiyAWBbh8t

EDIT: laptop's back online babes! turns out I only had a collage I'd made in polyvore when it was still a thing, but anyways here you go:


	4. one night stand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> another fully fledged fic- or the start of one more like it lmao

The bar was quieter than usual tonight when you decided to grab a drink. The recent deaths had the general spirit down and it was pretty depressing, even for you. 

Nancy handed you your drink and you thanked her with your head, as she walked towards two men who had just walked in. Trying to be as fast as possible, you checked them out as you put the glass in your dark lips. Your eyes connected for a second with the taller one, who looked down when he saw you looking at him. Nope. Not the guy for you.

In the other hand, the guy in the leather jacket... You put the almost empty glass down. 

_ Oh my... He's hot, _ you thought, raising your eyebrows.  _ New in town, obviously. Karma, is that you? Is this my reward for not punching anyone in the throat this week? _

Even though he was maybe thirty feet away, you could see those bright green eyes from where you were sitting. He looked like a player.  _ Definitely a player _ , you corrected yourself,  _ perfect. _

You stared at the man until he turned around to see you. Then you smiled, waved your hair softly and turned around, facing the empty stage.

You almost felt tempted to count back from ten, but you had learned the hard way not to be too arrogant about your seduction skills.

As you were expecting, he came and sat by your side. _ Jackpot. _

"What is a pretty girl like you doing all alone on a Friday night?" It was a magistral effort you did not to explode in laughter. That was really the best he could come up with? Yet, somehow, his voice traveled down your spine, leaving a warm sensation all over your body.

Now that he was close, you could fully admire his eyes, as green as the goddamn Central Park, adorned with curled eyelashes and defined brows.

"I'm not sure yet, pretty boy. Got any ideas?" 

_ Oh my sweet lord! Am I crazy or I just made him blush? Okay, yes, it was minimal, but, man. Those dimples are hot. If everytime he gets nervous I get to watch that face, I need to step up my game, ASAP. _

"I'm Renata."

"Dean." He replied. "What are you drinking?"

"I'll have a beer."

"Lightweight?" He joked. 

"Not exactly. But you might wanna be sober for this too."

Before he could react, you raised your arm, calling Nancy.

"Another one?" She asked, smiling. 

"Beer." You corrected, "Two, please"

"Coming."

You could see the slight confusion he was feeling. Dean was not used to not being in charge of the situation and it was obvious, so you decided to play along.

"So, Dean," His pupils went from wandering around the place to be fixated on yours. "What are you doing in town?"

"Well, me and my partner are here for some business, y'know?" You nodded along, letting him see that you were listening. Nancy left the beers in front of the two of you and went on to other client. "We got called here for a case, a killings, cause the local police needed our help."

"You're a fed?" You asked, faking surprise. There's no way that was true, and you knew it.

"What, I don't look like one?" He teased. "I am, yes." He continued, arrogantly. “It's not an easy line of work. A lot of traveling.”

“I bet.” You smiled, and took a sip of your beer. “It must be tough not being able to settle down with somebody, uh?” He raised his eyebrows softly, and you added, “Or maybe casual it's more your style?”

You wanted to pat yourself on the shoulder. The whole ‘nice girl’ didn't came to you easily, so this conversation could go south at any time.

“No, I'm... I'm definitely a casual guy. What about you?”

You smirked. “You'll find out.”

“ _ Oh. _ ” You chuckled at his expression, which made him re-focus. “What about you? What do you do?”

“Not much. My family consumes most of my time.”

“Why?” He seemed genuinely interested. Cute.

“Long story. What about yours?”

“My family? It's just me and my brother.” You nodded, but remained silent. He continued talking not two seconds later. “Yea, he's like, crazy smart. Got a scholarship to Stanford and all.”

He was about to keep talking when you put your hand gently on his thigh. He looked at you, his eyes wide with shock. _ Enough playing nice _ , you thought.

"I really like you, Dean."

"I... You do?"

You jumped out of your seat and got even closer to him, without moving your hand, until you were standing between his legs, and whispered in his ear:

"I do. But I'm not interested in making friends. Can you roll with that?" 

He smirked before answering.

"I can roll with that.”

_ Great. _

You leaded him towards the exit, where you found his friend, sitting with a beer and some files. You could read in Dean's face his desire to talk to him, so you stopped halfway out the door and said "Your place, my ride," right before walking into the night.

.

You woke up naked in a room you didn't recognize.  _ Wow. What an unexpected turn of events, _ you told yourself, sarcastically. 

Without moving your body, you looked around searching for a clock.

07:48 a.m. 

_ Okay lady, time to get up. _

You slided out of the sheets, trying not to wake your partner up. Dam-... Dean, was it? Yeah, something with 'D'. With a  _ big _ 'D'. You were going to remember those eyes looking at you while he-... You shook your head.  _ Goddamn it, focus, you pervert. _ you told yourself.

You spotted your black dress in a corner and you threw it on with anything under. Next on your list was your bag- it was on a chair beside the bed.

You opened it; Your phone, your wallet, blah, blah and... Bingo! You pulled out a flat ziploc bag with a pair of jeans, a clear t-shirt and undies inside. 

"Hey", you called, with no response. "Dean, I'm gonna take a shower." Nothing.

_ Whatever. I tried. _

You took the bag and left it on the bathroom. You had to go back when you remembered you had let a matching set of panties and bra all over the floor, along with your shoes and who knows what else. When you had recovered all your belongings, you stepped in the crappy shower, not before washing your makeup off.

Feeling the water run down your back, finally relaxed you. Your mind wandered back to the person your heart truly belonged to: Zoe.

**"I don't wanna talk about it, I don't wanna think about it..."** You sang, almost without noticing. Hayley Kiyoko's "Sleepover" had been the soundtrack of your relationship with her ever since you could remember.  **"I'm just feeling low, feeling low. Even when you're next to me, it's not the way I'm picturing, I'm just feeling low, feeling low. You wanna be friends forever, I can think of something better, I'm just feeling low, feeling low."**

You let out a frustrated groan. The water was getting cold so you hurried to wash out the soap.

**"But at least I got you in my head, oh yeah. At least I got you in my he-e-ead, in my he-e-ead, sleepovers in my bed, oh yeah. At least I got you in my he-e-ead, in my he-e-ead..."**

You stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around your hair. Using another one you started drying your legs, while your tongue went out of control again.

**"Always there to brush your hair, help you pick out what to wear; I just feel alone, feel alone. You will never understand, even when you hold my hand, I just feel alone, feel alon-"**

The melody died suddenly in your lips. You stared at the door, like trying to see though it the source of the sound that had interrupted you. Somebody had dropped something right outside. 

"...Dean?" You called, starting to worry.

"You have a really nice voice."

You sighed in relief. It was just him.

"I'll be out in a minute." You said, ignoring his comment.

You put on some of his deodorant before starting to get dressed. He insisted.

"I mean it. Did you wrote that?"

"Nah, I just relate a lot."

"Oh... Who's the dumb guy?"

With your panties on, you glanced at yourself in the mirror. Well, you could look worse.

"It's a girl. Zoe."

"...You're into girls? Bu... I mean, it didn't seem like it last night..."

You opened the door almost naked and stuck your head out so he could see you.

"...You know you can like both, right?" You only half-joked. He wasn't laughing. "It's called bisexuality."

"I know what bisexuality is, I mean, of course I know, but..." 

The green eyes men looked confused, in an expression you recognized. He didn't believe it.

"What, I don't look like one?" You quoted him. A cold breeze reminded you that you were still undressed and you went back inside the bathroom, closing the door.

"I would have never guessed it, that's it."

"Well, that's the thing about people. They are not always what you expect them to be. And that's not always a bad thing, y'know?"

He didn't answer and you didn't insist.

But right before you walked out of the motel room, you said out loud the phrase that had been in your head for a while:

"We should definitely do this again."

He looked at you, glad that you thought that too, and nodded.

"Absolutely."

"If you ever are back in town, you know where to find me."

.

.

.

You pushed Crowley to a side and sat besides him.

"What was our arrangement?" You groaned, closing your eyes not to lose control. How did he dare to be there? What was he trying to do?

"Darling, you..." 

You were pissed. Really, really pissed.

"What. Was. Our arrangement, Crowley?" You insisted.

"You stay out of my business and I stay out of your way, I know." You clenched your fists, taking deep breaths. "But this is a job meeting, dear, I didn't know you were here."

You opened your eyes and watched closely to the men in the other side of the table. 

"...Shit."

The guy whose bed you had left maybe six hours ago was sitting with his partner, watching you in absolute confusion.

"Renata?"

"Dean."

The feeling of panic gradually left to be replaced with embarrassment. You had fucked one of Crowley's minions. That was a whole new level of pathetic.

"You know them?" The king of hell asked, horrified.

"Kind of."

"Oh man..." muttered the long haired guy whose name you didn't know. "Who are you?"

"She is none of your damn business!" Crowley nearly shouted, upset.

"Watch your manners," you warned him.

"Darling, you should leave, I-..."

"Darling your ass. You sent demons to  _ my _ bar and you expect me to  _ leave _ ?"

"This place is yours?"

"It has my fucking name on the door, how isn't it clear!?”

After letting out a loud sight, he pointed at them, saying:

"These are the Winchesters, Sam and Dean."

You involuntarily raised your eyebrows, truly surprised.

" _ These _ ... Are the Winchesters?"

"Do you see now why I think you should leave?" Insisted the demon.

"You are working...  _ With the Winchesters _ ?" You repeated, ignoring him and trying to believe what you were seeing. At least they weren't demons, of course, but hunters was almost as bad. And these hunters specifically... Everyone who allies with them ends up the same way. "Great, now I'm getting killed too," you muttered.

"Always good to meet our fans," said Sam, including himself in the conversation. "With who do I have the pleasure?"

"Renata Vernon."

Dean snapped out of the trance he seemed to be in and asked:

"And you know him why?"

Crowley tried to answer, but you didn't let him.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you that."

Dean frowned, annoyed.

"Well I'm afraid you have to if-..!" He argued, but he stopped in the middle of the sentence because you had spotted something that stole all your attention. Someone, actually.

You stood up without saying a word, staring at the grown man who had just walked in.

_ "Motherf..." _ You breathed out.

"Renata?"

"You need to leave. Now. Get the fuck out."

And with that, you left the table, leaving the three men very intrigued.

"Miss Vernon. Do you have a moment?" Asked Patrick White with false politeness and his brand smile.

"Mr. White, of course," you smiled. "I assume the subject here is..."

"Yes, it is." He interrupted. "Maybe we could go talk somewhere more private?"

“Darling, is everything alright?" Asked Crowley, who against your instructions had walked right behind you.

"Of course,  _ Fergus _ . Nothing to worry about, really." You said, trying to be as clear as possible with your tone only. "Go back with the boys, I'll handle this." What you mean was something along the lines of 'get the fuck outta here you demonic bastard'.

"Fine," he said, with an obvious aggressive tone towards the stranger. "But call me of you need anything."

After giving you one more questioning look, Crowley started to walk back to his table, where the Winchesters watched the scene closely.

"If I'm interrupting something, I can come back later..." He offered, with a slightly offended expression.

"Actually, I think that would be for the best," you smiled, right before you turned your back to him and walked away.

_ If this asshole thinks he can pressure me into selling-... _

You sat besides the demon and watched Mr. White roll his eyes at the stage as he walked out. That was it. He pushed you to your limit.

"You said you could help?" You asked Crowley, surprising him. "Fine. I'll take it. Get this fucker out of my life as legally as possible."

"Dear, nothing I do is legal."

You rolled your eyes. He knew what you meant.

"Then do it as  _ morally correct _ as possible."

He let out a sarcastic laugh. "Since when do you care about morality?"

You looked at him, annoyed again. Part of you wanted to punch him in the eye. All of you, actually. But you couldn't do that.

"I'm trying to improve myself,” you responded, smiling. "I have a life here. I have friends." Sam and Dean traded a quick look, feeling ignored again. "I'm not going to risk all that for him. Or for _ you. _ "

"What made you change your mind, darling?" Asked the king of hell, after being silent a couple of seconds.

"Let's just say that I had a breakthrough. I'm done with him. Besides," You explained, calming down, "I think this is more  _ personal _ than it looks."

He understood the true meaning of that phrase instantly. If it was personal, he was involved anyways, and in the long term, this was going to be beneficial to him.

"I'll have it worked out soon, dear."

You sighted, tired and relieved. Yes, Patrick White was just a human, but the people he worked for... You were not so sure. He wanted you to sell your bar to them, keeping the management, but turning you into an employee. And everyone knows that working for Troywell Inc. means selling your soul to them. You hoped that it wasn't literal.

"I need a drink." You stated as you stood up. "Discuss your 'business' as long as you need, and then get the fuck out of my bar.”

The green eyed imitated your movements. "I'll go with you." Crowley's look connected with yours for a second, just long enough for you both to understand the message:  _ Not a single fucking word. _

.

.

.

You walked to the bar and got behind the counter. Nancy didn't work during the day, so Melissa was the only one there.

When you put the ingredients for your favorite cocktail together, Dean broke the silence.

"You are not a demon."

You looked at him and you found him already staring at you.

"Why are you so sure?"

"There's a Devil's Trap in my room's entrance." Dean pointed out. He has a point, you thought.

"I'm not a demon." You conceived. "But I won't tell you anything anyways," you smiled.

"Do you work for Crowley?"

You started to mix the alcohol as you answered, entertained.

"No."

"Does he work for you?"

"No." You sighed, and, even knowing you were going to regret it, you explained; "We dislike each other, but life kept putting me in his way." You started pouring the liquid in two fancy glasses, carefully. That wasn't the exact truth, but it would work for now. "We made an arrangement: he leaves me alone, and I stay out of his business. That's it."

You left a black, sparkly drink in front of him, matching the one in your hand.

"I didn't know who you were, I promise." You insisted, starting to walk back to the table. "I only had sex with you because you're hot. We should keep that from Crowley though, he might not..."

Too late. Crowley was walking towards the both of you, choleric.

"You had sex with Squirrel!?" He shouted, furious.

"Keep it down, dickhead," you snapped back. 

Behind him, Sam asked for forgiveness with his eyes. "I didn't know," he mouthed, silently. There were only regulars around, having lunch, and thankfully they were used to the drama, so the yelling didn't grabbed their attention.

"And that depends," you continued. "...Which one is Squirrel again?"

If his face could get on fire, it would.

"You annoying little brat,” Crowley yelled, “this is serious!" He insisted, lowering his voice.

“Watch your fucking tone with me,” you warned.

He grabbed you by the arm and pulled you away from Dean. "Don't you know what could happen to you if someone finds out? I can't keep you safe all the time!" He whispered.

"I don't need your stupid protection. I'm stronger than you. I'm stronger than any other demon. For fuck's sake,  _ I'm stronger than Heaven itself. _ " You hissed, trying to keep it down. "I get that you're scared, but I can take care of my fucking self."

"What did you just say?" Dean said, slowly.

Oh shit.  _ Holy motherfucking shit. _

You almost break your neck when you turned your face to see him. Sam had heard it too. They both had gotten closer to you while you and Crowley argued.

You stared at them, terrified.

Crowley took a step in front of you, in an unconscious gesture of protection.

"Stronger than Heaven?" Sam repeated, shocked.

You waited. Let Crowley handle them.

"So, you  _ are _ a demon," Stated Dean, and that was it for your silence.

"No! Jesus, no."

"Then?"

"I'm a hybrid." You said, ignoring Crowley's meaningful looks. "Half demon, half human. A cambion."

The brothers traded looks. Their expressions went from shocked to worried suddenly, like they both had remembered something.

"Like Jesse Turner," Sam pointed out. You had heard that name.

He was the Plan B of Hell when you refused to obey them. And when he disappeared, you were on the spotlight all over again. And then, you were on the run all over again.

That's when you met Zoe, and decided to establish here.

Poor angel, she didn't had a clue. You had never told her the truth about anything supernatural. And you weren't planning on doing it anytime soon. Because when people know, they hate you. Or fear you. And, eventually, they die. They all die.

"Yes. Exactly like him."

Dean looked confused and scared.

"Jesse was supposed to be the Antichrist," he stated, expecting your reaction.

"So was I," you accepted, calmly. "But I refused. And I had my mother's protection, so..."

"She was a demon?" Asked Sam.

"No, no; I mean-" You took a deep breath to organize your ideas, and then explained: "The woman who gave birth to me died during labor. She was human. I just know that she couldn't have children and she made a deal with a demon. Instead of her soul, she promised I would «fulfill my destiny when the time came», or she would be dragged to Hell. My mother, the woman who raised me, is a goddess."

"Excuse me?" Dean exclaimed, shocked.

"Persephone, greek queen of Hell."

"Of the Underworld!" Corrected Crowley, "Queen of the Underworld. A subdivision of  _ MY _ kingdom." 

You rolled your eyes. You had heard that discussion so many times before. 

"Yea, right. Underworld."

"So," started Dean, summarizing, "You are-  _ were _ ," he corrected himself, "the Antichrist, your mother is the Queen of Hell, your father is a demon. Anything else I should know about?"

"Well of course,  _ duh _ ," You responded. "But I keep the heavy stuff at least until the third date."

He rolled his eyes visibly, annoyed, while his brother laughed guiltily.

Dean shoot him a killer look, that made Sam laugh even harder.

You allowed a smile into your face. And it was replaced with an even brighter one when a red haired woman walked through the door.

"Nat!" Zoe greeted, spotting you. It was noon already, and she always cooked something for the two of you to eat at the bar, since she knew you wouldn't leave it if it was still open.

"Hi gorgeous," you smiled, walking towards her. It was normal for the two of you to flirt with each other, even when for you, it meant something else. Her korean features lightened up with the compliment.

"I got you food. Mexican, your favorite." And then she saw the three men at the table you had just left, watching her. Staring, more specifically. "Unless you're busy, I can just-..."

"No, no! It's okay, we're done here. Right?" You asked, searching for backup. When your eyes met theirs, your eyes switched to demon for a second, clarifying the situation. They nodded, cautiously. "See? They are Sam, Dean and Crowley, some old friends from Chicago."

She smiled, relieved. "Fantastic. I'm Zoe, by the way. Current best friend," she introduced herself.

She was slightly shorter than you, so when you put your arm around her hips, joke-flirting, she had to look up for your eyes to meet. "Wanna eat somewhere else? I need fresh air right now."  _ Liar, _ you thought.  _ She has to be as far away as possible from them. _

"Oh, of course!" Accepted Zoe, glad that you finally agree to leave work -like she always suggested-. "It was super nice to meet you, guys. See you around!" She said when you started dragging her out of there.

"Or  **not** ." You responded. She just laughed.

The two of you walked outside the building, chatting. When you returned three hours later, alone after dropping her at her apartment, you weren't surprised to find out that Crowley and the Winchesters had left. 

What you weren't expecting, on the other hand, was to be greeted by an address on a napkin under Dean's drink.

.

.

.

Y'know what? Fuck this shit. 

I started walking towards the door with steady steps, but before I could knock, it was opened from the inside.

"I'm telling you, if she doesn't come, I'll-..." The older brother went quiet when he saw me. Sam, on the background, watched me with precaution.

"Well, this isn't awkward at all,” I groaned, sassy. I dodged Dean and entered the room. Since either of them seemed like talking, I continued. "Why am I here, boys?"

"I don't know, you are the one who came," recalled Dean.

"Yeah, smartass," I responded, "but you're the one who left me the address. Start talking."

"Actually, that was Crowley. I'm gonna call him now, if you don't mind," Dean said, pulling out his phone. Two taps after he put it on his ear. Does he have the King of Hell on speed dial? "You both have some explanations to give."

" _ Excuse me _ ?" Dean turned his back on me as his brother gave a look I can't really explain. So,  _ those _ are the mythical puppy eyes? I'm not disappointed, to be honest. "I don't owe you shit. Not happening, punk. I'm out." I turned around to leave, but I couldn't even take a step before something cut across my way. Or someone, actually. "Crowley."

"Renata," He responded, with his ringing phone on his hand. He put it back in his pocket, as Dean hanged up, and tried to keep talking, but I interrupted him.

"We have a deal, Fergus."

"No need to remind me, darling," he said. "Sadly, I can't fulfill my part anymore. I need your help."

I remained silent for a second, processing what he had just said.

_ "...Come again? _ "

Sam, who had remained silent until now, handed me an old and rusty book.

"Do you recognize this?"

I examined the book. It was about the size of my forearm, thick and heavy. Way heavier than I expected. I peeked inside, only to find a bunch of complex drawings, in an ink that was starting to fade away, covering the paper completely. When I passed the first ten pages, the drawings were replaced with words in what I believe was enochian.

"Should I?"

"Not really, but we were hoping you could help us translate it," said Dean, taking it back.

"Sorry, pal, but I don't speak enochian. Don't you have your angel around? I bet he could do it."

"Castiel already translated the text for us. We need to understand the rest." Explained Sam. 

“I have  _ no idea _ what the rest says.”

Sam frowned, and then looked at Crowley with a questioning look on his face.

The demon sighed, and then instructed; “Touch the ink.”

I did as he asked. When my fingers brushed the page, an image flashed in front of my eyes, blinding me.

As soon as I did, a wave of sadness and hopelessness overcame my senses.

Taken back, I dropped the book before I could even recognize what I was seeing.

“What the fuck was that?” I hissed.

“What happened?” Asked Sam, involuntary ignoring my question.

Without answering, I turned around to see Crowley's face.

"Outside, now."

.

.

.

"Care to explain what the hell is going on?"

"Dear, I'm not exactly in love with the ide-"

"That's not what I asked!" I barked, interrupting him. "Why are you working with them? What is happening? It has to be big if you accepted having me around."

He sighed loudly, defeated.

"Lucifer. He's out there and we're running out of options."

" _ And I'm the best you could come up with _ ?" I growled. "Me, against Lucifer. You know, Lucifer, as in ' _ The Source Of All My Power _ '? I won't last five seconds."

"I know that! As soon as you finish with the book, you'll go back to your life. I promise. But you have to help me."

"Oh, I  _ have _ to?" I said, feeling the anger growing inside me. "The only thing you ever did for me, was dropping me off at mom's when I was a baby. And now  _ I'm _ supposed to help  _ you _ ?" 

I spit the words out with disgust. Who the hell did he think he was talking to? 

"Renata, you know damn well exactly why I sent you with her. Do you think that's what I wanted?" I rolled my eyes as a response. He continued: "You  _ honestly  _ think that I sent my  _ only _ daughter away because  _ I _ wanted?"

I froze, and then pierced him with my eyes.

"Shut  _ the fuck up _ or somebody will hear you," I ordered.

"You weren't safe with me. You're still not, and you'll never be." I swallowed hard. That might be true, but it's no excuse. Right? "And, yes, I'm a terrible father. But just in case you didn't noticed, that was the best I could ever do to you. And you know it."

I knew it. 

"I am who I am today because of Persephone, not you."

"Exactly."

I turned my back on him and took a step away. Only one. I couldn't bring myself to keep walking. He didn't try to stop me. He knew he couldn't, and he didn't had to.

"Fine," I muttered, "but with one condition."

.

.

.

"I'll send someone to take your order, wait here," I ordered as we stepped inside my bar. The three man stood there, not willing to disobey me. When I told them I would help them, Crowley tried to explain my condition, but I hadn't let him. They didn't need to know just yet.

I gestured Melissa to come over, and she left what she was doing immediately. When she was close enough, I spoke. "Put them in the table in front of the stage and get their order." She nodded, and started walking towards them, but I grabbed her by the arm gently, stopping her. "And, if they ask about me, or this place, or anything at all that is  _ not  _ the menu for today-"

"Not a word. I get it." 

I headed to my office to grab my most important belongings, but I ran into a scene I was not ready to deal with.

The Rejects, or whatever their name was now, since they changed it almost every day, where waiting for me, and so was Zoe.

"Nat, we have a problem,” she informed me when she saw me.

"Hi for you too," I joked. "What is it?" 

"Mark lost his voice, we don't have a singer." I looked at them worried. They were a bunch of high school boys, but they were really responsible and committed to their music, so I let them play here every once in a while, as long as it wasn't school night and they stayed away from the alcohol. The drummer, Damien, continued talking. "We are so sorry, Nat. But if we don't get a singer..."

"Shit. You're up in twenty," I recalled. "We won't get someone that fast. Does it hurt?" I added towards Mark, who seemed burning in embarrassment. He limited to nod with his head.

"Why don't you go? You're pretty good," Suggested Zoe, innocently. I would have said yes any other day. I would. But today I hesitated. She noticed it immediately. "Everything alright?"

"Yea, I'm cool. I'll do it." I accepted. "What are we going to play?"

.

.

.

Oh, God. This was a terrible idea. Too bad I only found out when I was walking into the scenario.

"Good night everyone!" I greeted. "I'm not the usual singer, I know. But Mark over there lost his voice, so I'm all you've got." I recognized some of my regulars among the people laughing, and that relaxed me. I've got this. 

Then, my eyes wandered to the center table. 

I  _ so  _ don't got this.

The music started playing and I pulled myself together. The Winchesters  _ needed me, _ not the other way around. And they had no idea what they've got themselves into.

**"I've been a-dancing in a devil's dirt, I'm a whole lot of trouble in a itty-bitty skirt"** I sang, moving softly in the scenario. In the center of the crowd, the hunters and the king of hell watched me jaw dropped. " **Well, the best kind of loving is the one that hurts.**

**You can get your kiss, but I'll get my purse.**

**I can take you down when the damned get wild;**

**There's a whole lot of sinning but they're greener for miles;**

**Three hits on the 6, there's a number that you dial;**

**You can be like me but I'm a real brat child."**

I quickly regained my confidence and -not to brag- I owned it. Everyone was enjoying it, including Zoe, who was singing along to Elle King's "Good Girls" from besides the stage.

**"I do what the good girls don't, I do what the good girls don't, I do what the good girls should never ever, never ever do."** I had tried to ignore them, but when I remembered the next lyrics, I couldn't help myself.  **"Hey, hey, hey; Since I'm gonna go to Hell anyway,"** I sang, staring directly to Crowley,  **"I'll go out with a bang, bang, bang; Crash and burn it all away."**

Oh, was he pissed. And I was  _ loving _ it.

**"Well, I walked in the light and I lived in the sun.**

**Now I die for the night 'cause the days are done.**

**I kissed a couple of angels but it wasn't much fun, so I shake, shake, shake it with an evil tongue."**

I took a second to check on the guys. Sam - _ oh, poor Sammy _ \- was more uncomfortable than I had ever seen anyone. And Dean... Jeez. That face. He was enjoying the show.

**"I do what the good girls don't, I do what the good girls don't, I do what the good girls should never ever, never ever do."**

Cheers and claps, and the song was over. A wicked thought ran through my mind, and before they could continue with the song we had planned, I suggested a small itinerary change.

**"Sitting in the corner sipping on his gin.**

**Must be my good karma, it brought me next to him.**

**He said he like the color when he look in my eyes.**

**His lips are like nirvana, his kiss is paradise."**

He knew I was talking to him. They all knew. 

**"He likes role play and talk dirty, keep me up 'till four thirty, play Marco Polo, feeling 'round with his eyes closed.**

**Call me Cleopatra, make me watch in the mirror;**

**Don't wanna say, 'told you so'..."**

With every second of staring, my ego grew bigger. I generally enjoy this type of attention, but now, I’m in Heaven. Metaphorical, of course- If I was in Heaven I would have every angel there trying to kill me.

**"But, ah ah ah ah, ah ah ah ah, as long as you love me, this could get ugly.**

**Ah ah ah ah, ah ah ah ah;**

**Yeah baby, trust me, this could get ugly, but tell me:**

**It's fucking good, real fucking good;**

**It's fucking good, loving me like you should...**

**Ah ah ah ah, ah ah ah ah, yeah, baby, trust me, this could get ugly."**

I saw him whispering something to his little brother, and laughing. He probably doesn't know I could read his lips.

**"Honeymoon is over, roses on the floor.**

**Screaming and accusing, calling me a whore.**

**Your words are shaking me, giving me whiplash.**

**We're on a trampoline and soon we're gonna crash..."**

_ 'Fair warning', _ he said.

**"But, ah ah ah ah, ah ah ah ah, as long as you love me, this could get ugly.**

**Ah ah ah ah, ah ah ah ah;**

**Yeah baby, trust me, this could get ugly, but tell me:**

**It's fucking good, real fucking good; It's fucking good, loving me like you should...**

**Ah ah ah ah, ah ah ah ah, yeah, baby, trust me, this could get ugly."**

You want a fair warning? We still have three songs to go. The night's far from over. 

_ That's _ your warning.

"Guys, you're gonna hate me for this," I started, speaking to the band, "but there's an asshole in the crowd and we're kind of silently arguing- Can I choose the songs tonight?" 

Apparently, and I quote,  _ I was on fire. _ They seemed to be really excited about the idea of me  _ continuing to do whatever the heck it was that I was doing, _ so they agreed to let me lead the rest of the night. 

**"Hey! In her heart there's a hole;**

**There's a black mark on her soul;**

**In her hands is my heart;**

**And she won't let go 'till it's scarred..."**

My eyes met Zoe's and she did a little thumbs up. Of course she had noticed we were improvising, but... Oh, fuck.

She thinks Dean and I..? We're not flirting, we're arguing!

**"Ha! Tried to breathe but I can't;**

**'Cause the air she feeds me is damned;**

**Got a touch like a thorn;**

**'Cause the girl she's hiding horns."**

Dean raised his eyebrows, challenging. You wanna play, bad boy?  _ Let's play _ .

**"She got blood cold as ice, and a heart made of stone;**

**But she keeps me alive, she's the beast in my bones.**

**She gets everything she wants when she gets me alone;**

**Like it's nothin'...**

**She got two little horns, and they get me a little bit."**

Crowley's face, unlike Dean's, was not happy. He was seriously annoyed. I ran my hand seductively through my hair, and I smiled as I moved with the rhythm.

**"She's the fire in the sin;**

**And I burn breathin' her in;**

**Now it's love suicide;**

**And I sell my soul for the high;**

**Truth be told I don't mind;**

**'Cause her hand's my paradise;**

**She can crush every hope;**

**Got her heels stompin' down my throat..."**

_ 'Why don't you just put a neon sign that says "I'm a demon" on your goddamn forehead? It would be more discreet than this!' _ I heard in my head. Crowley. 

_ Aw, he's worried! How cute! I thought, _ knowing he was hearing it.  _ Now fuck off, or you'll be next. _

**"She got horns like a devil, pointed at me and there's nowhere to run from the fire she breathes.**

**She got horns like a devil, pointed at me and there's nowhere to run from the fire she breathes.**

**She got two little horns, and they get me a little bit!"**

Boom, crowd explodes. They boys are really enjoying themselves, but I need a break. My throat's not used to all of this action. I motion them to take five, and Zoe helps me to get down the stage.

"Now, that," she started, "whatever it was, it was amazing. Seriously, I could practically  _ touch _ your voice."

"Uh... Thanks?" I doubted. Before she could explain herself, the king of hell was dragging me outside. "I'll be right back!" 

"Could you two, please, stop it!?" Yelled Crowley, face red, when the door closed behind us. I lifted my eyebrows softly, and remained silent. "I see whatever it is that is happening between you and that Winchester." He accused.

"So?"

"So!?" He repeated, incredulous. "You need to put as much distance between them and you as you can, or-"

"You...  _ Do _ realize that you're  _ making _ me work with them, right?" I teased, slowly.

"This was not on my plans. That book,  _ that entire book _ is a spell that might kill an archangel, but we needed someone to perform it and yo-..."

"What did you just say?" I interrupted him. He froze, realizing his mistake. "You said  _ translate _ , Crowley. I'm here to translate,  _ not perform _ ."

"Nat!" Called Zoe, standing in the door. "The boys are ready, come on in!"

I took one last look at my father's face, and started walking inside. So it wasn't a coincidence after all. 

.

.

.

**"When I go, into the ground...**

**I won't go quietly, I'm bringin' my crown,"** I started. Crowley straightened his back, feeling threatened.  **"When I go into the ground;**

**Oh, they gotta bury me, bury me face down.**

**From the rubble, what do I see?**

**There's a whole damn army thinkin' that they're gonna harm me;**

**Say goodnight, I'll never get free.”**

**"Oh, I've got troubles-"** I sang, staring;  **"That won't let me be..."** Sam put an expression only describable as a Bitch Face, as Dean raised his eyebrows. 

**"...But I won't get tired, set the town on fire, 'til my troubles have trouble with me."** It wasn't until the words were surfing the air that I noticed how well applied they were. 

**"Thinkin' that they've won... It's only just begun."**

Sam leaned into Dean's ear and whispered something I didn't bothered to understand. His face said everything, though. 

**"When I go into the ground, I won't go quietly, I'm bringin' my crown.**

**When I go into the ground;**

**Oh, they gotta bury me, bury me face down.**

**I've been on the run since I was a** **boy** **girl;**

**But now I'm done runnin' got another thing commin';**

**Watch my enemies get destroyed"**

**"Oh I've got troubles... Of more than one kind;"** Three, to be precise. The King of Hell, a ten feet tall Pantene model and a green eyed nightmare.  **"But I never sleep, gotta bury me six feet deep, where the sun don't shine"**

A small drop of anxiety started to pump through my veins. After all, I had promised to help them after taking care of things here.

**"Thinkin' that they've won... It's only just begun."** But then, when I was starting to feel bad with myself, I remembered that they were lying to me. And therefore, this was nothing compared to what I should do to them.  **"When I go into the ground, I won't go quietly, I'm bringin' my crown. When I go into the ground; Oh, they gotta bury me, bury me face down"**

**"I've been- counted out, left for dead, wanted with a bounty on my head..."** I put my index and middle finger on my temple, in a clear sign.  **"But somehow, someway, I'ma keep movin' along, movin' along..."** I crouched, putting my head in the same level as Crowley's.  **"I've been counted out, left for dead, wanted with a bounty on my head... But somehow, someway, I'ma keep movin' along, movin' along..."** I repeated.

**"Thinkin' that they've won..."** I smiled as I slowly got up. " **It's only just beguuuun!"** I sang, showing off. 

**"When I go into the ground, I won't go quietly, I'm bringin' my crown. When I go into the ground; Oh, they gotta bury me, bury me face down..."** The music from the band was replaced by rhythmic claps, as I practically whispered into the mic:  **"Ohh, they gotta bury me, bury me face down."**

The lights went off the second the music stopped. The sound of clapping flooded the air after a milisecond of silence.

"Renata," called Damien, from the drums, "only Aiden knows the chords to the next song, so you'll only have piano, is that okay?"

"Yeah, no problem." I smiled over the noise. "But I'm going to get changed while you take your stuff off the stage. Aiden, come with me; I think I have a suit for you somewhere."

He nodded quickly, making his dark hair shake a little. It was long, not like Sam's, but long anyways, and black as the deepest night you could imagine. His pale skin contrasted with it and that made the dark circles under his eyes even more noticeable.

We disappeared through the backstage and I saw the boys argue silently in the corner of my eye. Maybe I'm going too far?

No. They lied to me. They  _ still are _ lying to my face. 

I materialized a fancy suit inside the closed wardrobe, exactly Aiden's size. 

"It's in there. I hope it fits." I pointed. He smiled, muttered a 'thanks' and grabbed the clothes. "You can change in my office, okay?"

"Where will you change?"

"Oh, don't worry about it. Just go."

Aiden obeyed, and left me alone in front of the -fairly small- full body mirror. In a snap of my fingers, I was wearing a floor long dress, black and silky, with a cut that went up to my thigh. 


	5. one night stand - scraps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is set to happen right before renata leaves with the winchesters

“Ready when you are.” 

You nodded towards the demon and took one last look at your bar. 

Surprisingly, you felt a pinch of grief where you expected boredom.

Maybe it had nothing to do with the place.

“There's still one more thing I need to do.”

He glanced knowingly at you. “Take your time.”

“W-?” Dean was cutted off by Crowley, who gestured him to be quiet and leave. 

“Nat?” You turned to see the redhead, who smiled at your sight. “You're leaving so soon?” She asked, almost surprised, “these guys are a bad influence on you.”

“That's one way to say it.” You said with a fake smile. She noticed it, and frowned- a gesture that meant  _ ‘explain’. _ “Listen, uh, I'm going a short trip.”

“What? Where?”

“It's hard to explain. There's something I need to take care of.”

“Nat, is everything okay?” She insisted, worried. “You're not in trouble, are you?”

You smiled to calm her down.

“No, everything's fine. It's nothing serious, but I have to take care of it now, before it gets out of control.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, trust me.” She smiled sadly. “I'll tell you more once I get back. Sorry for the short notice, all of it was very sudden.”

“What am I, your mom?” She joked. “I trust you. But, Renata... You're not doing something bad, are you?”

A warm, sad smile extended through your face.

“Not at all.” You assured. “Actually, I think you'd be proud of me.”

She let out a laugh. 

“Don't be ridiculous!”  _ Ouch. _ “Nat, I'm already proud of you.”  _ Oh. _

“Promise you'll take care while I'm gone? And look after this place?”

“As long as you don't stay gone too long.”

“Come here.” Zoe wrapped her arms around you, but instead of returning the gesture, you placed your hands in her shoulders and kissed her forehead. 

You took a step back and heard the pieces of your black soul falling to the floor.

“Hi! Welcome!”  _ Smile, Renata, _ you told yourself,  _ act normal and smile or you'll freak her out. _ “I'm Zoe! We are about to close, but I'm sure I can squeeze you something. Want me to get a table for you?”

“Don't worry, I'm just looking for directions to exit the town.” You lied, forcing yourself to smile. If she could remember you, she'd already noticed that. 

“Oh, just go straight down this street and then take left in five blocks, you'll end up in the route- you can't get lost.”

“Oh, yeah, thank you.”

“No problem! Hope to see you again soon.”

“Yeah- me too.”

As you walked through the door, Nancy shot you a dirty look. Outside, the Winchesters waited by their car, as Crowley took a phone call.

“Should I ask about that?” Questioned Dean when he saw you, pointing at something.

“No.” You followed the direction of his eyes, just to see a different sign above the door. 

This one read  _ “Zoe’s". _


	6. one night stand - roleplay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i call this 'ren desperately trying to prove to herself that she is not ace, definitely not ace, not ace in the slightest'
> 
> it's a sequel to one night stand, though you don't need to read it to get it.

"You saw nothing" Dean warned closing the laptop suddenly. But _ boy _ had I seen it: Busty Asian Beauties. I started chuckling as he turned around to see me, annoyed.

"Aw, sorry, babe..." I tried to apologize, but the laughter took over me again. 

He turned on the computer and closed the incognito tab, trying to maintain a poker face. He seemed embarrassed. "Don't be shy," I moaned, smiling. I leaned into him and I sat in his lap, with my back against the table. "There's nothing wrong with porn." He looked at me, cautious. "What?" I asked, honestly confused.

"You're not, like... Mad? Or, offended or something?"

I laughed, but he remained serious. "Should I?" I responded, imitating his expression.

"No, I mean..." He put his hand in my waist, carefully pulling me closer to him. "I don't want you to think that our sex is not-..."

"Good?" I guessed.

"Enough for me." He said, correcting me. "Because it is. I don't know what is it with you, maybe the half demon thing,-" I chuckled, making him smile, "but I can't think of any other woman who made me feel like you do."

"Aw, how sweet!" He joined me laughing and I stood up. "Look at you, all touchy-feely."

"Hey!" He groaned, offended.

"I'm not complaining." I said, waving my hair purposefully. I knew he loved it. "It's nice having little chick-flick moment, every once in a while."

"Oh, really?" He said, in a tone that implied sarcasm.

"Don't be a jerk," I ordered. There had to be an 'or...' coming, but I couldn't think of anything. Then, an idea flashed through my mind. "Or I'll cancel the surprise."

"You just made that up!" He accused, laughing. 

"Maybe, but it'll be ready for tonight if you apologize."

He chuckled, standing up and wrapping me around his arms.

"Fine," he gave up, "you're right."

"You don't even remember what we were arguing about."

"Nope. Does it matter?"

"Nah." I agreed. I leaned in for a kiss and he captured my lips in his, right before Sam walked into us.

"So, get this-..." Started the youngest Winchester, but stopped himself mid-sentence. We separated and started laughing. "Am I interrupting something?"

"No, I was just going to take a shower." I said, before Dean could disagree with me.

"Well, I've got us a case. You wanna come?" He offered, smiling.

"Yeah, give me half an hour." 

"Okay, we'll be waiting for you." I walked out of the War Room, and stopped for a second before I disappeared into the hallway, catching Dean's gaze, just long enough to blink seductively and bite my lip. 

Holy shit, I am evil.

.

.

.

After interviewing the last person who had seen the victim it was pretty clear that we were dealing with a demon. We headed back to the motel room. Sam had gotten one for himself, and Dean went with to get some food. I decided to call my father to ask him if he knows something, but after two rings, the King of Hell was sitting comfortably in the queen size bed.

"Hello, darling."

"You know," I said with an slightly annoyed voice as I ended the call, "you could just pick up the phone."

"Yes, but where's the fun in that?"

“Don’t you quote me to me, you jerk.”

“What do you need?” He asked, ignoring my complaints.

“Do you have demons in town?”

“Here? Not that I remember. Why?”

“We’re on a case.” I explained. He nodded. “So it’s cool if we kill him?”

“It’s probably a rookie **_,_ ** go ahead.” Replied Crowley. “I assume  _ ‘we’ _ includes the Winchesters, right?”

My eyes narrowed instinctively. Why did he want to know? My father smiled innocently, and added:

“It’s just curiosity, love. There’s no need to get defensive.”

“How does that phrase go? ‘ _ Curiosity killed the demon’ _ ?” 

“You mean cat.” He corrected, getting up.

“I  _ really _ meant demon.”

  
  
  



	7. one night stand - media

other stuff I made for this oc:

her playlist:

https://open.spotify.com/user/hullabalxo/playlist/34QGzrwH4baqpoXsnYdwZX?si=cJ5pmwZlSbO6BxtbXGzbtQ

renata x dean playlist:

https://open.spotify.com/user/hullabalxo/playlist/2wpB1sKDFlD5Q8WKQNEh8Q?si=2B8cz52AScC8_45lhCe-ig


	8. a file so eloquently named "sheriff hunter"

"Now, don't get me wrong. I want to believe that you two are batshit crazy. I really do, it'll make my job much easier. But the more I read about this stupid journal, the more I remember seeing cases like these." I let the leather book fall open on the table. "Bodies that show up completely drained from blood with no explanation. Crazy ass deaths with a tiny bag in the crime scene. Murderers that seem to walk through walls and magically avoid all cameras. Or people that are two places at once. Or... Demons that leave sulfur behind.  _ Sulfur _ . There was sulfur in the crime scene you crashed." The guys in front of me traded looks. " _ Please _ , please tell me I'm going crazy and there's not a demon possessing my boss."

  
"I'm sorry. I know it's hard to believe, but..."

  
"Oh, fucking shit. I'm not crazy. You're not crazy. There's a demon inside that motherfucker. It's not like he doesn't deserve it but  _ man come on, _ seriously!?"

  
"Um, ma'am?"

  
"Hold on a second, I'm having an emotional breakdown." I asked, returning to my catharsis, "Jesus fuck. I can't handle this. Life is meaningless, there's no point in anything. Fuck, why can't I just be crazy!?"

  
"Sheriff, calm down!" I turn to see Sam, whose calming hand gesture is being hardened by the handcuffs. "I know it's a lot, but the demon it's still out there. And he knows we're here for him. Sitting here we are easy targets."

  
"You're right." I whispered. I took a quick glance through the door's window, to make sure we were still the only ones in there. “I'm going to let you go, but I'm coming along with you.”

“Woah, what?”

“Sheriff, this isn't like anything you've trained for,” Sam explained, worry flooding his features, “demons are too dangerous, especially if you've never faced them before.”

I looked at the keys in my hand for a second, taking a deep breath. 

If this is as dangerous as they say, going is a terrible idea. Am I really going to risk my life for nothing?

But this isn't nothing, I tell myself, there are people in danger.

“There's a first time for everything, right?”

Sam trades a concerned look with Dean as I unlock his handcuffs.

“Sheriff, we-...”

“I need to see it,” I interrupted. He stopped talking to stare at me. “I need to make sure I'm not crazy. And if I'm not, I need to learn to protect myself, and others. I'm coming with you, and you can't stop me.” I look up once I'm done with Sam, and he nods, understanding. I move on to Dean and I can see he's still hesitating, but I can't back down now. “I promise I won't drag you down, and I'll do what you say, but I have to be there.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	9. a teen wolf crossover

"I've missed you so much!"    
  
Your voice rang through the small apartment, alarming your friends that you knew exactly who was on the other side of the door. They decided silently to stay in the kitchen, out of sight, and wait until you returned.   
  
"(Y/N)!" Laughed a man's voice, that neither of them recognized.    
  
"We've missed you too," replied another man, again unknown for the pack. Scott catched the anxiety coming from his best friend, and placed a reassuring hand in his shoulder.   
  
"It's okay, Stiles," he said, "she knows them. They're not a threat."   
  
He nodded silently. With everything they were going through, even the tiniest thing put him on edge.    
  
"What are you guys doing here?" You asked, with a wide smile on your face. Of course, this may not be the best time for a family visit, but these were your brothers. Right?   
  
As you let them in, hiding the flask in your hand, Sam started to explain.   
  
"We had a case a few towns over, and we decided to stop by."   
  
Your eyebrows raised in disbelief. That was really unlikely, or really bad news. Or both.    
  
Anyways, there was something more urgent to worry about.   
  
You splashed both of them with holy water.   
  
"Are you serious?" Muttered Dean, annoyed, with the most 'done-with-your-shit' expression you had ever seen.   
  
"Hey! A girl's gotta be careful. Mind picking up that knife over there?"   
  
"Silver?" Asked Sam, as he grabbed the knife and made a small cut in his palm. Then he gave it to Dean, who did the same. 

When you were sure these were really your brothers, you hugged them tightly.   
  
"So, the case. What was it?" You tried, casually, returning to your relaxed expression. You closed the door as Dean hurried to answer.   
  
"Just a salt and burn. No big deal." He replied. Your eyes went to Sam, looking for confirmation, but what you encountered was a questioning look on his face.   
  
"Is it a good time?"   
  
He was standing right in front of the dinner table, where your friends' stuff rested. You obviously didn't own six backpacks. Someone else was in your house.   
  
"I have some friends over," you explained, "from school. Y'know, since I'm the only one with a place of their own and stuff."   
  
Dean frowned a little at your response, but he replaced it with a smile before you could see him.   
  
"Then we can come back tomorrow. Baby got damaged in the hunt, anyways."   
  
"No, hold on," you ordered. "You're not here just to check on me, okay? And there was no salt and burn." Sam looked at his feet, guilty. Dean was a little in shock from your confrontation. "Something happened. So talk."   
  
"Y/N..." Trailed off Sam, with his eyes fixated on the corridor.   
  
You understood then- This was bad, on a biblical level.    
  
"Listen, we--..." Whispered Dean, but you stopped him. Murmuring was useless, since most of them could hear him anyways.   
  
"Is it who I think it is?"   
  
"He got out." Confirmed Dean.   
  
"Tomorrow after school, alright?" You asked, forcing a calm smile in your face. You were anything but calm.    
  
You didn't have to be a genius to notice: Sam was meant to be the vessel, so he harassed Sam until he said yes, but when he did, he took back control. Now that Lucifer was out, he needed a vessel again, but Sam was out of question. Who was next on the line, then? You.   
  
"Yeah, don't worry." Said Sam, hugging you. "I'll text you, okay?" He walked towards the door as Dean pulled you into another hug.   
  
"Listen, be careful, you hear me?" Said the eldest once he was already out the door. "You still have the hex pack?"   
  
"Yes. And the sigils are drawn in invisible ink. I'll be fine."   
  
"Take care, Y/N." Asked Sam.   
  
"You too. Try not to die until we can catch up." You joked, and closed the door. When you heard them walking away, you whispered, "Shit."   
  
You headed back to the kitchen, the biggest room on the house, but you ran into your boyfriend before you could take three steps.   
  
"Y/N?" He asked, narrowing his eyes. Behind him appeared Scott and Kira, both with curious expressions. Which made sense, since you never really talked about your family.    
  
Of course, a week after you moved to Beacon Hills, everyone had heard about the emancipated teen living on her own. No one asked about your parents because of that, which made it easier to hide your past. But when you became friends with Scott after learning his secret, you tried to keep the lies to the minimum. Where were your parents? Both dead. Did you had any other family? Yes, but you weren't in touch. That was all true. But, why did you know so much about guns, how were you so good at fighting, and why weren't you completely freaked out about the supernatural world, were questions you had deliberately avoided since day one.   
  
"Those were my brothers."   
  
Stiles opened his mouth, shocked, then turned around to see Scott, who was just as surprised as he was, and then turned back to see you.   
  
"What!?"   
  
"You have brothers?" Insisted Kira, with her eyes open wide.   
  
Stiles' shout had grabbed the other's attention, and suddenly all of your friends were watching you in confusion.   
  
"Back in the kitchen, everybody." You ordered, "I'll explain everything, okay?"   
  
.   
  
.   
  
.   
  
When they were all back in the kitchen, you started. "First of all, if I didn't tell you about them earlier is because my family is complicated.  _ Really _ complicated." You insisted. Scott stared at you, listening closely to your heartbeat. Stiles wouldn't meet your eyes, and you knew you had hurt him. "And everyone who gets involved with them-- with us, usually dies. So, with that cleared off... They are my half brothers. My mom died when I was three, so my-- our father took care of me. He's dead too."   
  
Some of the eyes in the room went to Scott, searching for confirmation.    
  
"She's telling the truth."   
  
Stiles looked at you, frowning.   
  
"Okay, but what were they talking about?"   
  
You took a deep breath, sinking in your seat a little bit. Here came the difficult part.   
  
"I come from a family of hunters. That's what I was raised to be."   
  
"Hunters?" Asked Liam, confused.   
  
"Like the Argents?"   
  
"Well, basically, yes. They came here to warn me that someone is after me."   
  
"What? Who?"   
  
"Well. That's another...  _ Complicated _ subject. The Argents only hunt werewolves, right?" Your friends nodded, wary. "My family is a little more diverse. The person looking for me... I-..."   
  
"Y/N, you can talk to us."   
  
"You wouldn't believe me.”

“There's nothing we haven't seen," assured Scott, with ignorance-fueled confidence.

“There's  _ so much _ you haven't seen,” you replied. “I should explain first that there's something different about this town. Supernatural beings here are not like the ones in the rest of the country."   
  
Scott, who had been standing the entire time, sat down at your words.   
  
"What do you mean, (Y/N)?"   
  
"I mean you, for example. I had never seen a werewolf like you before. The whole alpha thing was new to me too. Or... Lydia and Kira too." The girls traded hesitant looks, before staring back at you. "In my experience, banshees and kitsunes don't wear nail polish. And, well, Malia is the first werecoyote I've ever heard about in my life."   
  
Your words floated in the air for a couple of seconds, before Scott nodded and asked.   
  
"Are we safe with them here?"   
  
"Yes," you replied instantly, "they only hunt evil creatures. You'll be fine."   
  
It was awkward to say at least. Stiles wouldn't meet your eyes, Scott was trying -visibly- to stay calm, the girls were deeply focused in their own thoughts, probably related to the information you had just given them and Liam looked completely out of place. But before the silence could set in for good, your boyfriend turned around, to face the board, full of information of the recent attacks, and spoke.   
  
"That's good, because we're gonna need backup."   
  
.

.

.   
  
The black muscle car grabbed everyone's attention in the parking lot, and you heard a few of your friends audibly go 'Wow'.

“I'll see you guys tomorrow, alright?” You said, waving. Stiles stopped you when you started to leave.

“ _ That's yours? _ ”   
  
“It's my brother's. I didn't know they were picking me up.”

“Oh, okay.”

You said goodbye again, and this time they let you go.

“Hey, Y/N.”   
  
"Was it  _ really _ necessary to pick me up?" You teased, opening the back door and getting in the car, "I'm gonna have everyone wondering tomorrow, and the last thing I need right now is attention."

"Hi, Y/N," smiled Sam, ignoring your mini rant.

"Hi Sam. Is Cas around?"

"He's nearby, doing his angel stuff. Is your place still warded?"

"Yeah, why?"

"We'll go there, then, avoid noisy eyes at the motel."

"Alright. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
.   
  
.   
  
"Oh, so you  _ are  _ being serious."   
  
"Why wouldn't I?"   
  
Sam eyed Dean warily.    
  
"Well, because a boyfriend isn't..."   
  
"What?"   
  
Dean sighed, and you held his gaze without looking away.   
  
"A good idea, considering our line of work."

“Oh, don’t give me that bullshit.”


	10. apple pie life

When you opened the door, a conversation you had with Gabriel a long time ago came back to you. You remembered it, because he wasn’t his cheerful self when he told you about two men who could someday come knocking on your door looking for him. 

The two  _ so called _ FBI agents fitted way too much into the description he had given you, and it wasn’t without hesitation that you let them in and asked them to wait for your boyfriend to come home from work.

You knew damn well that Gabe had his secrets, and he knew you knew. You were at peace with it too. You didn’t know his family or his friends, (he wasn’t in touch with his family, because, according to him, “they were all crazy”), and his past was a blurr of which you knew practically nothing. 

And, somehow, you still trusted him. You didn’t know why, exactly, but there was something about him that just made you feel like  _ here and now _ was all he could give you, and that was all you needed.

“So, um; Miss Y/L/N,” started the tallest one, as you lead them to the couch.

“Y/N, please,” you corrected. He glanced at his partner shortly and nodded smiling shyly.

“Well, Y/N, when is Gabriel coming home?”

“We don’t want to get in your way too much,” added the green eyed one, smiling too.

“In about fifteen minutes. Maybe more. Can I offer you a coffee?”

“Yeah, that would be great.”

You nodded smiling and walked to the kitchen, slyly taking your phone with you.

“Black?” You confirmed, as you texted Gabe.

“And no sugar, please.”

_ ‘There are two FBI agents looking for you, what do I do?’ _

“Do you mind if I use your bathroom?” Asked the one with the green eyes, suddenly standing in the doorframe.

_ ‘Play along. I’m almost there _ ’

“Not at all! But use the one upstairs, this one’s broken.” He nodded, and you instructed; “The second door to the right.”

_ “Play along” _ ? What was that even supposed to mean?

Your mind raced through all kinds of theories as you set the pot in front of the agent. He smiled and thanked, and you couldn’t help to ask: “Is Gabe in trouble?”

“Oh, no, don’t worry.” You let out a sigh of relief and he continued explaining. “We think he might have seen something that could help with our investigation, that’s it.”

“I see.”

“Are you two married?”

“Us? No, no. Gabriel doesn’t believe in marriage.”

“What about you?”

“Nothing against marriage, it's the church I have a thing against,” you smiled. 

He huffed a laugh, getting red.

“How long have you been together, anyways?”

“About six years. Almost seven.” 

“So you must know him pretty well,” the agent guessed.

“That depends,” you stated. When his eyes met yours, you saw the confusion and elaborated: “I know what kind of person he is, but I don’t really know that much about his past.”

“And aren’t you curious?”

You chuckled.

“Honestly? No.” The agent’s eyebrows raised, surprised. “I don’t care. I know the person I love. And, why would I ask for his past when I already have his present and his future?”

A silence settled in the room that was only interrupted when the other agent came back from the bathroom.

And that was it for playing along.

“Did you have enough time to search through the entire apartment or did you only cover the second floor?”

They both started to talk at the same time, stumbling over their own words and making the worst excuses you’ve ever heard.

“I did not-...”

“Yes you did. See that little screen over there?” You pointed your finger to the panel at one side of the door, right behind the long-haired agent. “It shows every time one door in the house is opened and it’s been going on nonstop since you went upstairs. So I'll ask again: whole house or second floor?”

Almost painfully, he admitted: “Second floor.”

“Go on then. You still have some time before Gabe shows up.”

“Are you serious?” Asked the other one, whose name you didn't bothered to remember. You nodded. “Why?”

“Why not?”

“I can see why they're together,” muttered the green eyed.

“I'll take that as a compliment.” You grinned, as he got lost in the corridor. Turning to the other guy, who was now standing for some reason, you continued; “So, why are you really here? ‘Cause I'm pretty sure you're not federals.”

“They're here cause they can't take a no for an answer,” Interrupted someone from the door. There was no way to mistake that voice. “Samsquatch. I did not expected to see you so soon.”

“Gabriel,” greeted the man.

“Hi babe,” you smiled. He walked to your spot standing behind the couch and kissed your cheek.

“Hi, sugar. Did they give you any trouble?”

“They behaved,” you replied with a cheeky grin.

“Good.” Green-Eyes walked back into the living room with a gun in his hand, that made you jump back, as Gabe put himself in front of you, protective. “Dean, I would put that down if I were you.”

“ALRIGHT! Gun is where I draw the line:  _ What the hell is going on _ ?”

“These are Sam and Dean Winchester,” Introduced Gabriel, pointing at them with his free hand. The other one was around your waist protectively. “And I’m sure Dean here is going to put it away before I turn him into pile of dust.”

The guy, Dean, stared at Gabriel for a couple of seconds, before putting the gun on the back of his pants again. 

“I already told you that whatever mess you two made it's not my problem,” said Gabe, standing to his full height, still shorter than the other two but definitely more determined, “so if you'll excuse me, go find someone else to bother.”

Sam took a small step forward, frowning at you.

“She doesn't know anything?”

Gabriel's face faltered, but he didn't reply.

“I don't think she does, Sammy,” said Dean, a little smirk showing on his face. 

“I'd be careful with what you're gonna say next if I were you,” warned Gabe.

“Listen, I might not know  _ exactly _ what the fuck you're talking about, but I won't let you use that to force him into anything. We clear?” You said, sternly. “I'm not some idiot you can use to get what you want. So, if you're done here,” You pointed to the door with your head and smiled with fake politeness, “get  _ the fuck _ out of my house.”

Both men stood there in silence for a few seconds, mouths hanging open and eyebrows raised, but then Dean smirked again, and spoke towards Gabe.

“Do you think she'll change her mind when she hears what I have to say?”

_ 'She’? Are you fucking serious? _

“I'm literally standing  _ right here _ .”

Even when you hadn't hesitated for a second, your reassurance wasn't enough for your boyfriend, who was still tense, even when the gun was nowhere to be seen.

“I won't go back to that,” Gabe said, his voice firm and clear. “You can't change my mind and you can't make me. Face it, boys, you're on your own this time,” he added, his usual snark returning to his voice.

A light bulb seemed to light on in Sam's head.

“You know that if we don't stop this, she's probably going to die, right?” He asked, and you saw all of Gabriel's confidence evaporate.  _ Die? _ What the fuck was he talking about? “And  _ even _ if you could protect her, how long do you think this life you two have will last, once Dick's plans are finished?”

Again,  _ what the fuck was he talking about? _

Whatever it was, it seemed to work. Gabe turned his face to you, and you understood what he was thinking immediately.

_ Goddamn it, Gabriel _ .

You sighed loudly. “I will go to run some errands, so you can talk in peace. But I  _ will _ be expecting an explanation when I come back, okay?” He nodded, a small appreciative smile in his face. You hugged him, putting your mouth right by his ear, and whispered, “Text me so I know you're fine, okay?” You pulled away just in time to see him nod once in agreement. “I love you. Be careful.”

“I will.”

You turned to see the two men, and attempted to say something, but your mind went blank.  _ What the fuck was happening? _

You grabbed your keys and your bag before leaving the apartment.

.

.

.

When you came back, after Gabe had sent you an  _ all clear _ text, you found him sitting in the couch, his head resting on his hands.

He was worried.

“Babe, I'm home,” you called, and he met your eyes with a frown. “How did it go?”

He got up and wrapped your arms around you, hugging you tight. You returned the gesture, lovingly placing your lips in his neck.

“I'm so sorry,” He whispered, voice hoarse and low, and you pulled away to see his face. His eyes were now watery, and you got worried immediately.

“What? Why?” He looked down in shame and remained silent. “Gabe, what happened?” You insisted, your tone more and more urgent by the second.

“You had  _ a gun _ aimed at you because of me,” he said, his voice breaking. You relaxed, even just a little bit. That was something you had already processed, and what really had you worried currently was what those men wanted. “And now you got pulled into a mess that you don't deserve and I'm so sorry.”

“Gabriel, look at me,” you asked, and he compelled, “I don't have a clue of what's going on, but I trust you with my life. If you told me to jump off the balcony right now, I would do it, because I know-” He tried to look away, but you held his face with your hands and made him look into your eyes, “ _ I know _ that you would  _ never _ do anything to hurt me on purpose. And  _ yeah _ , what happened today might have been scary and all, but you're only human and there's just so much you can do to protect me. 

"I'm my own person too, you know? I trust you, Gabriel. With every cell in my body. And now I need you to trust me back when I tell you that I'm with you a hundred percent. Can you do that?”

He nodded slowly, and grabbing you by the hand he lead the both of you to the couch.

“There's something you don't know about me,” He started, “something big, and hard to believe. Just-... Bear with me, okay?”

You moved closer to him as you nodded.

“I'm here,” you reassured. His eyes went from your hands to your eyes and then the floor and then your hands again. Whatever this was, it had him really nervous.

“I... Y/N, I'm not human.”

_ What. _

_ Hold on.  _ **_What!?_ **

_ The fuck did he just say? _

“Gabe-...” You tried, but there was nothing. You had absolutely no idea what to say. 

_ Was he joking? Had all of this been a super elaborate prank? Or was he hallucinating? Maybe he was delusional. Could you have gone all these years without realizing that? This couldn't be true. It just couldn't. Right? _

_ If he wasn't human, then what-..? _

“Y/N, I know how that sounds, but I can prove it,” He promised, effectively pulling you out of your thoughts. You looked up to him- You hadn't even noticed you had been staring at the floor,- and just sighed, hoping with all your heart that this,  _ whatever this was, _ would end well.

“Go on.” 

You were still sitting close to him, but Gabe had realized your need for space and had taken his hands off of you, leaving you in control of the physical contact between the two of you.

“I love you,” he said, and it sounded like a promise, “more than anything, Y/N. I-... I'm an archangel.”

You could have sworn your heart stopped working for a couple of seconds. So did your brain, and your tongue.

He went on: “Ex archangel, actually. I fell from Heaven a long time ago. I-”

“Gabriel,” you said, and he stopped talking to hear you, “as in, the archangel Gabriel? From the Bible?”

“Yes. I know this sounds...”

“Completely insane?” You offered. You felt the very core of yourself shaking. Your jaw tightened and relaxed at its own will, and you thought you might pass out at any minute.

“I can explain everything first and then show you, or I could show you first- Whatever you want, Y/N. Just tell me.”

_ This couldn't be true. Angels aren't real, for fucks sake. But he wouldn't lie to you, and he said he could show you. Show you what?  _

With that question still fresh on your mind, you sighed.

“Show me first, please.” Gabriel attempted to get up, but before he could get to his feet, you placed your hand on his shoulder. “I love you, Gabe. I love you so much it hurts.”

He stood up and reached to kiss your forehead, before standing straight in front of you.

“Just... Keep an open mind, okay?”

And with that, he closed his eyes in concentration, right before a white light coming from nowhere outlined the shadow of a pair of wings on the wall behind him.

“Holy...” You inhaled sharply, “You have wings?” You exclaimed, your voice high pitched from the emotions.

As soon as he heard your voice, the light disappeared and he turned to see you, all the confidence and power he was showing just a second ago evaporated, and his stance became hesitant, like he was expecting you to bolt at any second.

If you were being honest with yourself, you couldn’t assure you weren’t going to. 

“Yes.”

Gabriel had wings. 

Gabriel was an angel.

Gabriel was  _ an angel. _

Your hands clutched your knees, and he took a small step forward, neither of you breaking eye contact. 

“Y/N?” He tried, as he took another step.

“I don’t know what to say,” you confessed, and then, as if he didn’t already know, “you’re an  _ archangel _ .”

Your voice must have sounded very ambiguous, because Gabriel frowned in fear as his hands turned to fists.

“Is that bad?” He asked, surprising even himself with how low his voice came out.

You gasped, before a weak smile appeared in your face. “No, Gabe, it’s not bad, it’s just-  _ A lot. _ ” You saw the weight taken from his shoulders, a beautiful smile filled with relief washing off the fear he previously had on his face. “I don’t even know what to say,  _ what to ask _ \- And I have  _ so _ many questions, like-...” And suddenly, you were at a loss for words again. All you could do was sigh deeply, lacing your breath with mindless words as your eyes wandered around the room. “ _ Jesus fucking christ, you’re really not-... _ ”

“Not human.” Gabe finished for you. You looked back up at him, and found him already looking at you with a serious face. 

The size of his revelation threatened to crush you both, the truth standing tall between the two of you like a skyscraper that went as high as your eyes could reach. If you let it, it would freak you out completely. And then, who knows what Gabe would imagine: Being an expert in hurting his own feelings, it wasn't going to be good. 

You decided that you were not going to freak out, at least not now and not in front of him.

You rose to your feet and walked to where he was standing, his golden eyes following your every move.

“You have wings- Does that mean you can fly?” A little hesitant, he nodded. “What else can you do?”

He blinked a few times, thinking.

“Um. I can teleport, and I-... I can materialize stuff, and heal people...”

“Wow,” You breathed. Gabriel looked at you, mildly alarmed. When he noticed your face, and the lack of a smile, his shoulders slumped. “That sounds amazing.”

Your praise calmed him, and you hugged him tightly.

“Y/N...” He started, but he couldn’t find the words.

“I’m honored that you trusted me with that,” you said against his chest.

“I wanted to tell you. Sooner, I mean." He looked so sad, you realized. And worried. God, you'd do anything to make him smile even for a second. "But, Y/N, knowing this-... And there’s still a lot you need to know, it puts you in danger. There are bad people out there, and they might try to hurt you because of me.” 

“Like the men from earlier?”

“No, they’re not bad, they’re just..." He sighed, rolling his eyes a little. "Not the brightest. And with a gift to get in trouble.”

“What do they want you to do?”

“It's-... it's a long story, but the bottom line is, a monster replaced Dick Roman, and now he plans on using his power and money to destroy humanity.”

“Monster?” You repeated. “Monsters are real?”

Gabe nodded. 

_ Deep breaths, Y/N, deep breaths _ . “What kind of monsters are there?”

“A lot. Ghosts, werewolves, vampires, angels, demons...”

“Demons? Wait, does that mean that Hell exists?”

“Yes- Is this too much? Do you want to sit?”

You nodded, and he walked you back to the couch. He sat you down, and for a second, he thought about standing there, but when he realized it might make him look more imposing, he sat down on the floor.

"What are you doing?" You laughed softly. You grabbed his hands and pulled him to his feet. "Sit with me."

"Y/N..."

"Please?"

His lips tightened and he sat beside you, keeping a respectable distance.

You scooted closer and put his arm around you, practically hiding in his chest.

"How are you so calm?" He asked, almost incredulous.

You looked up to him, smiling softly. 

"I-" You took a deep breath, thinking your words. "I might not understand  _ what _ you are, but I know  _ who _ you are. And that hasn't changed. Do you still love me?"

"Wh-..? Of course! Y/N, why-"

"Then that's all I need." He looked at you, eyes softened and almost teary, and smiled. "The world just got a lot scarier, I'm gonna need my best friend with me," you added, playful.

"I will always protect you, Y/N."

"I don't want you to. I don't want to be a damsel in distress. Can you teach me how to defend myself?" He looked at you, confused. "You can't be with me every single second, Gabe, and I hate being helpless. Would you teach me, please?"

"Of course. Yes, anything you need."

"Thank you... But right now, all I need is for you to come with me," you said, grabbing his hand and pulling him along with you.

"Where?" Asked Gabriel, even when he was already following you.

"Bed. I want to nap with you."

"You should probably eat something before going to bed," he said, gently.

You turned around, seeing his hesitant stance and small frown, and couldn't help but smile.

"I'm not going to bed yet, it's just a nap. But you're right. How does Chinese food sound?"

"Amazing," he sighed.

"Remind me to call later, okay?"

.

.

.

When you woke up, Gabe was gone. And that didn't worry you until you remembered what had happened.

Wait, no way. That must have been a dream. A weird one, but life had been a little weird lately.

"Babe?" You called. Footsteps were heard, and sooner than strictly necessary, Gabe walked through the door, intensely staring at you. "What?" You asked, confused by his concern.

He frowned slowly, trying to decipher if you were pretending or honestly didn't remember.

But that look on his face was the thing that made you realize-

"Was that real?"

He nodded, cautiously. You got out of the bed groggily, not yet fully conscious, and wrapped your arms around him. 

"It's okay. I promise you, it's okay. How did you slept?"

"I didn't- Not really."

"What?" You frowned, squinty eyes scanning his face. "You must be exhausted!"

He looked at you tenderly, and kissed your forehead before replying: "I don't really need to sleep, (Y/N). It's part of..."

"Being an archangel," you finished for him. The statement was voiced almost like a question, which is why Gabriel nodded, looking a little worried. "Stop looking at me like that."

He frowned in confusion, but then he made an effort to change his expression for something else. "Like what?"

"Like you're afraid I'll run off screaming." And with that he smiled, and you sighed in relief. "But for real though, if I didn't ran off yesterday, I'm just not going to."

He nodded. "Thank you, (Y/N). But it's still  _ today _ , you only slept for a few hours."

"Really? Woah. What time is it?"

"Like three am." You groaned, half surprised and half annoyed, because now your sleep schedule would get fucked. "I thought you were going to sleep until tomorrow."

"I intended to," you smirked, "but you wanted me to eat something, remember?"

He nodded. "Do you still want Chinese takeout?"

You frowned. He didn't react, so he must have been expecting your confusion. 

"I don't think the restaurant is open at this hour," you replied.

"Another perk of being an angel," he smirked, and your frown was joined by a smile, that made you look curious rather than worried. "I can materialize things, remember?"

"Show me," you asked, eyes widening with anticipation. Gabriel would be lying if he said he didn't relaxed at the sight.

He took his hands off you and by the time they were in your sight, he was carrying two paper bags.

"Holy shit," you breathed in amazement. "Come on, I'll set the table."

.

.

.

  
  


"Angels operate on what is called Grace- It's what gives us our powers; teleportation, smiting, general invincibility, healing, the hearing of prayers, access to heaven, telepathy with other angels, telekinesis-"

You nodded along, your entire attention turned towards remembering all the details.

"Question," you interrupted, "what qualifies as a 'prayer'?"

Gabe smiled.

"Anything you think that's directed towards me with enough intent. Normally, saying my name before you start talking counts."

"Damn. That's going to cheapen my phone bill a lot."

Gabe snorted, laughing.

"You don't even need to talk out loud-"

"Wait, you're telling me I can think anything and you'll hear it?"

He nodded, and a huge grin crept into your face.

_ Dear Gabriel, the archangel my boyfriend _ , you thought, and he chuckled. You focused on a few memories from some nights ago, remembering the details clearly, and smirked victorious when he almost choked on his food.

"So I'm guessing that worked?"

His eyes met yours and he glared, only half joking. You laughed, entertained, and he rolled his eyes.

"You're gonna be the death of me," he sighed.

"I guess I know where I'm going when I die, then," you replied. He frowned, confused. "I mean, killing an angel- Isn't that like, a sin?"

Gabe thought about it for a second.

"It... Depends, I guess. There's no guideline, each case is analyzed separately."

"Damn."

"And besides, even if you  _ did- _ go to Hell, I mean,- I would steal you back. You don't belong there."

"I know exactly where I belong."

He didn't answer. He just looked at you, his smile turning a little sad as his hand reached for yours over the table.

"What?"

"Nothing, I'm just thinking."

"About?"

"You." Gabe said, and then he added, "and me, and... Us." You smiled, but he went on, "This is gonna get difficult, and dangerous. th-... That's why-... That's why I asked the Winchesters to protect you, as a condition to accept helping them."

"Hold up. The Winchesters? The assheads from earlier?"

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The men -Sam and Dean, Gabe had told you,- stood there, watching you arrive.

The short one started to say something, but his voice died off when he noticed that you didn't stop walking until you were right in front of him, and then proceeded to punch him right in the nose.  _ Hard _ .

"If you ever try to blackmail him again _ or even worse, _ try to use  _ me _ to blackmail him,  _ I will kill you. _ Understand!?"

The other one had come closer and pulled his brother away from you, utter shock tainting his features.

"Y/N!" You turned to see Gabe who had also gotten closer and now looked at you worried. "Are you okay?"

You curled your fingers and winced a little. 

"Hand hurts," you reported, "but I'll live."

" _ What the hell was that!?" _ Shouted the guy you'd punched.

You turned back to him, dangerously narrowing your eyes.

"Was I not clear enough?”

"Y/N," called Gabriel, putting his hand on your shoulder, "it's okay. I got this."

You nodded once, and he materialized a pack of frozen peas.

"Here, for your hand."

"Thank you, Gabe."

"Watch your girlfriend, damnit," Dean hissed, and you turned to glare at him. Gabe shot you a look that you understood as " _ Sorry I can't let you kick his ass" _ . __

In response, you softened your expression.

"I'm here. What do you want?" He demanded.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	11. another display of wits named "bobby's daughter"

“Hush, I have to take this,” I ordered, taking my phone to my ear and walking out of the living room. “Hey babe.”

“ _ Babe _ ?” Repeated Dean, shock on his voice.

Dad rolled his eyes heavily, and Sam gulped at the gesture. The Winchesters traded a look with a clear meaning: So  _ that _ was what had Bobby in such a bad mood.

_______

  
  


“Uh- Mr. Singer?”

Bobby turned around, monkey wrench still on his hand, and found Ethan standing awkwardly in the door of the garage.

“What do you want?”

“Nothing, just-” Bobby started to turn around again, ready to turn his back on him and continue working, which gave Ethan the adrenaline boost he needed. “Did I offend you?”

Bobby froze.  _ 'Offend’  _ him? 

What kind of man asks that?

“Come again, boy?”

Ethan shivered a little, just enough for himself to notice. He was seriously considering dropping the subject, but he was not going to give in to the fear. 

“Did I do something, to make you dislike me? Cause if I did, I-” Again, Bobby turned his back on him, much more determined this time. He grabbed a piece of cloth to clean his hands and left the wrench on one of the tool boxes. He was getting the hell out of there, as soon as possible. 

“If I did,” Ethan insisted, not willing to let this opportunity go to waste. His voice was probably more loud and imposing than intended, but he had already started this, and he was going to finish it. “I'd like to apologise. Really.”

Bobby frowned when the boy- Who was probably half his size, and barely taller,- stepped in front of the door, blocking his way.

At the lack of response, Ethan dropped his tone. “Sir, I'm really asking you, did I do something wrong?”

Bobby wasn't angry at him, not really. But it bothered him, to say the least, the easily this boy could just say exactly what he meant. Never once he had met someone like him.

No, correction: Never once he had met a man like him. Because Y/N was nothing if not open. 

And now he was comparing his daughter to him. As if he didn't had enough going on in his head.

"Well for starters, you're in my way," he mumbled, maybe more agressive than intended.

"Yeah, but that's on purpose," Ethan replied, nonchalantly, "and that's not what I meant."

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“I don’t think your dad likes me very much,” stated Ethan, walking into the kitchen. I closed the refrigerator with a can of cold soda in my hand.

“Yeah, he doesn’t,” I confirmed, a guilty grin on my face.

“Oh, no, please don’t sugar coat it,” he groaned, sarcastic.

“Oh, I’m sorry,  _ princess _ , do you want me to lie to protect your feelings?”

“Actually that’d be nice.”

I let out a laugh, and he let out a proud smile. “It’s not that he doesn’t like you, he just doesn’t know you.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t make me feel better.”

I sighed, dropping the smile a little.

“Don't feel bad. I'm serious,  _ don't _ ,” I insisted, before he could point out how useless that advice was, “'cause you did nothing wrong. He just needs time to get his shit together.”

He huffed, and then nodded. 

“And there's nothing I can do?”

“Give him space, I guess,” I said, more serious than before, “he's not used to-...”

“To guys like me?” He guessed, and I bit my lip. That sounded bad.

“The environment he's in...” I started, subtly enough not to give him any clues about hunting, “...is very toxic, in that sense. Just give him time to get used to the idea, okay?”

I took a sip of the can and I saw a little smile creep into his face.

“So I'm assuming wild sex in your bedroom is out of the table?” He teased, and I nearly choke with my soda laughing.

“It is if you want to leave this house walking,” Dad threatened, walking into the kitchen, and my laugh only got worse when I saw Ethan's mortified expression.

“Absolutely, sir.”

"Dad, leave him alone," I ordered, barely containing the laughter. 

  
  
  
  
  



	12. copycat

The day had been long, but the conversation on the bar was too good to leave. There were plenty of fans, but most of them already had gotten selfies and a few words and now just hanged around, leaving the cast some privacy to catch up amongst themselves. 

Kim was holding out her phone towards Jensen, Jared, and Misha, who were the only ones who hadn't seen the video yet.

She could tell exactly when they got to the part of her  _ almost  _ landing flat on her face just by the looks on their faces.

"So, yeah," she sighed once the YouTube video finished, "I think  _ I _ was the most embarrassed today. Unless you can top that, of course."

"That's not the  _ only _ thing he can top," smirked Jared, wiggling his eyebrows proudly at his joke. There was enough alcohol in everyone's systems to make it funny.

"Oh, shut up! And at least," said Jensen glaring at Misha, who just pretended to be offended, "you didn't make another sexual joke. In front  _ of hundreds of cameras _ ."

"I already apologized!" Pleaded the blue-eyed, making everyone laugh again. Jensen rolled his eyes dramatically, just as Rob and Richard sat down on the small table, carrying three shots each and a beer. "Besides, everything I say can be taken as a sex joke. Might as well make it easy for them."

Briana raised her eyebrows and nodded. "That's true."

Jensen took the bottle Richard extended him and scooted over, making room in the booth for the two men.

Jared was about to say something, but the music stopped suddenly and was replaced by the intro to a different song. That would have gone unnoticed any other time, but there hadn't been anyone for the karaoke in almost two hours, and no one was expecting another brave soul to climb to the stage at this point. Still, a girl stood, back straight and with a blank expression, as the lights dimmed even more.

The new song was different, too. Slower, and almost creepy. The girl on the stage was tapping her heels to the rhythm, her black dress showing off her amazing legs. " _ Don't be cautious, don't be kind _ ," She sang, staring at someone in the public, " _ You committed, I'm your crime. Push my button anytime... You got your finger on the trigger, but your trigger finger's mine _ ."

"Damn," whispered Kim, and almost everyone emitted agreeing sounds. Richard and Misha stayed silent, but for different reasons. Misha was sure he had seen the girl before -which he probably had, having talked to so many people- but there was something he was forgetting. 

"I don't think that's a fan," he said, and everyone on the table turned to see him.

"Well, maybe."

"I mean," he insisted, "I think I saw her accompanying someone."

" _ Perfect murder, take your aim _ ," continued the girl, oblivious to the attention she was getting from the corner table,  _ "I don't belong to anyone, but everybody knows my name." _

The bass dropped, and if someone was not paying attention to the stage, the sudden rise of the volume made them turn to see her.

" _ By the way... You've been uninvited." _ Her head was hanging low, making most of her face get covered with her hair. Her eyes were fixated on one of the tables in front of the stage, though, and that couldn't be covered even if you tried. The girls sitting there were frozen, not daring to move a muscle. 

" _ 'Cause all you say, are all the same things I did. Copycat, trying to cop my manner... _ " Suddenly, it became obvious which one of them she was singing to. One of the girls, that had also talked to all of them when they first got to the hotel bar, sat up in her chair when Mystery Girl started the chorus. All her friends turned to see her, but she didn't even blink.

" _ Watch your back when you can't watch mine. Copycat, trying to cop my glamour _ ," When Rich looked around, he found almost all his friends were frowning. Not like they didn't have a reason. Her voice lost almost all the melody and she just asked, mockingly, " _ Why so sad, bunny, can't have mine? _ "

There was so much emotion in that line, that the fan shot up from her chair and ran off humiliated, followed ‘til the last second by the girl's piercing eyes. A small wave of murmurs ran over the bar, that was replaced quickly by loud claps, but the girl on stage just continued her performance, with a victorious smile on her face and more movement on her stance.

_ "Call me calloused, call me cold... You're italic, I'm in bold. Call me cocky, watch your tone..." _

"What the hell was that?"

_ "You better love me, 'cause you're just a clone!" _

Another round of cheers exploded, and the girl laughed meanly.

Rich looked around, like most of his friends were doing and he found that, except for themselves, and the other girls that had been sitting with the fan, every single person on the bar was staring at her with adoration, and something that looked like respect. The entire thing was getting more and more weird by the second.

True, the girl on stage had an amazing voice and was obviously very confident in herself, but she had just made a girl run away in embarrassment- Not the kind of stuff you want to encourage. 

_ "I would hate to see you go, hate to be the one that told you so..." _ She sounded nicer now, but for some reason, Rich didn't trust this sudden change of attitude.  _ "You just crossed the line... You've run out of time..." _

Two girls passed in front of the table, gossiping loud enough to catch Richard's attention. He got up slowly, and using the darkness of the bar in his advantage, he sat down beside them once they settled, standing at one side of the bar.

One of them, cosplaying as female Castiel, handed the other one her bottle of beer. Rich only heard the last part of her sentence.

"...kinda over the top for my liking, yeah, but,  _ damn _ . She could slap me in the face and I would  _ thank _ her."

"Wait, wait, recap- Who is she?"

Fem Cas frowned, putting her bottle down. 

"Don't you remember the girl that claimed that she had drawn-..?"

_ "I'm so sorry, now you know... Sorry I'm the one that told you so... Sorry, sorry, I'm sorry, sorry..." _ His eyes went again to the stage, completely against his will. Her little movement of hips on stage was hypnotic.  _ "...Sike!" _

"No, no, I remember that bitch," Interrupted the girl in front of him, rolling her eyes at the mention. Richard focused again on his eavesdropping. Where they talking about the fan? "Who's  _ that _ ?" Her chin pointed at the stage, and her friend's eyes followed.

"You know that girl who made the official art for  _ Twist and Shout _ ?"

The woman nearly choked.

" _ That's _ her!?"

"No, that's her  _ sister _ ," hissed Fem Cas, sipping from her bottle in satisfaction.

The other fan made an entire turn to look at her friend.

"You're shitting me."

"I'm not. Apparently, Alice told everyone and their mother that she-..."

Rich decided he had heard enough, and left the stool as silently as he had arrived.

_ "By the way... You've been uninvited... 'Cause all you say, are all the same things I did. Copycat, trying to cop my manner, watch your back when you can't watch mine..." _ The little insight he had gotten gave him all sorts of mixed feelings. If the dislike towards that girl was as generalized as it sounded, then the cheering was no surprise. What had she done exactly, he wasn't sure. Who was the girl on stage, he wasn't sure either. But if she was just defending her sister, it couldn't be that bad.  _ "Copycat, trying to cop my glamour... Why so sad, bunny, can't have mine?" _

Right?

When he made his way back to the table, Jared was talking and making wide gestures with his arms.

"...And I can't believe that they're actually cheering for  _ a bully- _ I mean, after everything..."

"Where were you?" Murmured Rob in his ear, low enough not to interrupt Jared's rant.

"Overheard some girls talking," he explained, a little louder, and Jared stopped talking to hear him out, "apparently the girl that left is not really liked amongst the fandom."

Jensen groaned. "Oh, so it's not just  _ her _ ," his head tilted, pointing at the stage, "that girl has to put up with her own fandom hating on her?"

"I don't think sh-..." Richard interrupted himself half sentence. He didn't mean to defend her, but facts were facts. "She didn't sound so innocent, to be honest."

"What do you mean?"

The song that had been playing before returned, but Rich seemed to be the only one who noticed.

"I don't think she was the victim, Jay."

Jared frowned and looked away, but remained silent. Rich wasn't the only one with encountered feelings, apparently.

"We could always ask her..." Suggested Misha, but Jared shook his head.

"Nah, I mean-..."

"I think we should, actually," Interrupted Jensen, putting his beer down, "Jare, you're gonna spend the rest of the weekend obsessing over it if we don't go. And we might never have the chance to figure this out once she leaves."

Jared sighed and nodded. 

"Where is she?"

Not exactly subtly, Rich looked around, just like all his friends were doing. There was no trace of the girl on the bar, and the stage was empty.

"Bri and I are going to the bathroom," said Kim, "see if she's there."

"Yeah, you do that. Me and Jared are gonna look backstage, alright?"

"Rich and I are going outside," added Rob.

"I'll stay here in case she comes back," decided Misha. "Besides, somebody needs to look after our things."

"Thanks, guys," smiled Jared.

"What do we do if we find her?" Asked Briana. 

"Text me and I'll be there as soon as possible. Or you can just ask her yourselves, if that's what you prefer."

"We'll text you," Replied Kim, after trading a quick look with Bri, "we'll be right back."

"Thanks, y'all, really." 

Rich patted him in the shoulder, smiling. "No problem, big guy."

Kim and Briana walked into the bathroom highly expecting it to be either empty or at least with girls doing regular bathroom stuff. That's not what they found.

"Riley, this is getting ridiculous, open the freaking door."

Two loud knocks came from inside a stall. The girl they were looking for was leaning on to the door, arms crossed and an annoyed look on her face.

Her voice got more aggressive by the second. "If you think I  _ won't climb inside _ and drag your _ sorry ass out-..." _

Two knocks again, stronger this time. Briana made eye contact for a split second, and that's when she realized they had been both staring from the door. She grabbed Kim's arm and lead them both to the mirror, pretending to help her fix her hair.

"Jesus fuck, it wasn't so bad!" Exclaimed the girl, sounding a lot like a surrender. A little  _ ‘ding' _ lit up her phone's screen, and she mouthed the words of the text unconsciously. She raised her head again, now with a much more exasperated face. "I can always go back to plan A if you prefer. You know, the one that included  _ destruction of private property _ ?"

Two knocks.

_ Ding, ding. _

"Well, sue me! You weren't going to do anything, so I did it for you. You're welcome!"

Kim pulled out her phone discreetly and texted Jensen:  _ found her on the bathroom, bring Jared outside. _

_ Coming _ , he replied. Briana took a peek at the conversation and they agreed to leave in silence.

_ Ding _ .

The girls were already outside the door by the time Mystery Girl spoke again.

"Listen, I'm sorry, okay? You always refuse my help even when you need it, and it's hard to tell when you really mean no." Y/N took a step back, and the door creaked a little. "...I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd care so much about Alice after what she did. I'm sorry."

Riley sighed, and the door was unlocked.

"Can I come in?"

Three knocks were heard. Three meant 'come'. Either  _ come here _ or  _ come in, _ depending on the situation. Y/N opened the door.

"You okay?" 

**"Yes,"** signed Riley, her movements kind of sloppy thanks to the reduced space, **"I want to go home now."**

[Author's note: Bolded text is translated from sign language to English.]

"Now? What about going out? Your first real club and..." One look at her eyes was enough for Y/N to stop talking. "Alright, come on," She started, gently pulling her out of the stall, "we can go out any other day."

But that wasn't true, so Riley freed her arm from Y/N's grasp and signed,  **"Give me the room's key. You go, I'll stay."**

"I'm not going to leave you, Ri, it's not that important," Y/N insisted, making her way to the door. However, when she finished talking, she turned to look at her sister, waiting to interpret her hand movements.

**"Don't lie,"** she signed, with her eyebrows raised in a 'you don't fool me' expression,  **"I'll be fine, really. Go have fun."**

Y/N sighed and opened the door. "Alright, but text me as soon as you get there."

**"Deal,"** signed Riley rolling her eyes. Y/N held the door open for her, and they made their way out of the bathroom with small smiles on their faces. 

Y/N noticed the two women from before, but she didn't think much of it. 

The brunette was looking around like searching for something, with her back towards the door.  _ Probably looking for a friend _ , Y/N thought.

Briana saw them come out of the bathroom, and  _ not so discreetly _ pointed them out with her gaze to Kim.

Y/N didn't feel their eyes specifically, since most people followed her every move, whispering to each other. She and Riley received a few smiles, that they gladly returned, but they made quickly their way through the bar and exited the place.

They called an Uber for each of them, and waited in the cold. There was a dim light coming from inside and a few street lights, but it was still dark around them. 

They weren't alone, so they both said nothing. It had never been agreed to, it hadn't even been addressed, but when people could see them, they tried to avoid talking in Sign Language. Riley hated the attention it got her, and Y/N kept quiet in solidarity. However, that didn't mean they didn't communicate. It had been years since Riley lost her voice, and they had become experts in subtle looks and expressions.

_ Now _ , for example, Y/N could see that her sister was freezing her ass off. Wearing only a thin sweater had been a great idea during the afternoon, when she was getting ready to walk through thousands of stands full of merchandise, but now it was past midnight and the temperature had dropped noticeably, and not even the turtle neck was warm enough.

Y/N took off her jacket and handed it to her. Riley shook her head,  _ I'm fine you dumbass, _ but Y/N was having none of it and extended her arm even more. 

"I'm probably going to lose it anyways, take it," she whispered, way lower than intended.

After a second of contemplating her options, Riley grabbed it and put it on, zipping it all the way up.

"Better?"

She nodded.

Richard and Rob observed in silence, out of the line of sight of the girls.

Another group of fans, who had noticed them, giggled softly and stared. They had both given up in trying to figure out what they were saying to each other.

Rob stared at the text sent from his phone, expectantly. 

_ She's out here with some other girl _ .

There was no answer.

Almost an entire minute later, a green car pulled over in front of the two girls, who had barely said a word to each other. Mystery Girl leaned over the passenger window and interchanged a few words with the driver, before opening the back door for her companion and closing it after she got in.

Just as Mystery Girl turned around, the door opened. Jared walked out first, with Jensen following him right after. 

They made eye contact with Rob and Rich for a split second, and while Jensen decided to walk towards them, Jared didn't miss a second and headed straight into the girl.

When Y/N noticed the  _ very fucking huge _ man headed towards her, she had to make an effort not to jump out of his way. 

She  _ did, _ however, take a few steps to the side in hopes of not bothering him. His expression wasn't exactly giving anything away, but when a guy his size basically sprints from a bar to the street, you don't get involved. 

Jared wasn't sprinting to the  _ street _ , however, so as soon as he realized how intimidated the girl was by him, he slowed down drastically.

Which is a nice way to say that he stopped dead on his tracks two steps away from her. 

After about ten seconds of silence and awkward staring, Y/N spoke.

"...Can I help you?"

"You're the girl who just sang, right?"

A smug smile crept into her face, but it was not directed at him. "I am, yes." 

"Why?"

Y/N stared at the man for a second, confused, but he didn't elaborate. Intead, he just looked down at her (again, dude's really tall) frowning.

"I... I don't think I understand the question."

"That girl ran away, I think she was crying-..."

"Good!" His eyes shot open, and Y/N continued talking, anger dripping off from her tone. "She's an awful person, trust me. She had it com-..."

"But what did she do to you?"

"To me? Nothing!" 

"Then-..." There was a question in his tone, but Y/N cut him off.

"She stole my sister's artwork, made prints and sold them  _ without her consent _ , and made over three thousand dollars by doing nothing. That's illegal, in case you didn't know." 

"Oh." 

"And when my sister went to talk to her  _ like a decent fucking person, _ she made fun of her in front of everyone because she's mute." 

That detail dropped on him like a bucket of ice water.

" _ Oh _ ." 

"Yeah,  _ ‘oh' _ ," She repeated. Having to explain her actions to some random dude was annoying, to say the least.  _ (Why was she even explaining her actions to some random dude to begin with?) _ "Apparently, she's done this over six times, not counting our case. Artists with mental illness, or in the autistic spectrum, or trans. The kind of people who don't get listened to in a courthouse, or don't even have the courage to even go to one."

Jared remained silent, with his eyes fixated on her face, but not really looking at her. Richard was right, after all. 

The girl sighed. She continued talking, but in a more gentle tone.

"Riley decided not to sue her, so I emailed the page she was using to sell and they took her down, but nothing else. So when I saw her here tonight... Couldn't help it."

"Oh."

"You're not contributing much to this conversation, are you?" He huffed a laugh, and Y/N took that as a victory. The guy, even with his size, seemed kinda softened with her story, and she had no intention to ruin anyone's night. Except for Alice's. She can rot. "Thanks, though," she added, and he frowned, confused, "for asking me, instead of jumping to conclusions. I can imagine what it looks like from the outside."

"Pretty bad, yeah," he sighed, with a smile.

"He talks!" She exclaimed, her mouth in an ‘o' shape. "Funny, I thought everyone in the con had heard what happened..." 

As she spoke, Y/N noticed that some girls from the group standing near them were taking pictures and filming, and suddenly it all clicked.

"Wait, all of that was today!?"

"I should know you, right?"

"What?"

"Those girls are taking pictures." He turned to see them and they put their phones away, embarrassed. " _ And _ you haven't introduced yourself, plus you didn't know about all of this..."

"Yeah, I'm... I'm one of the actors. You've never watched the show?"

"I made it halfway through the pilot, but it's not for me. No offense." She hurried to add. An Uber stopped in front of them. "It happened this morning, when they were setting up the stands," She answered, before opening the back door. 

All Jared could hear was her voice asking, "Who are you here to pick up?" before she entered the car and closed the door, giving him a small wave as a goodbye.

"So!" Jared turned around, and found Rob and Jensen standing behind him. "How'd it go?"

"Did you find out something?"

"A lot, actually. Where's Rich?"

#  hotel scene:

The whole thing was a mess, honestly. And  _ way _ too complicated for someone who's had as many drinks as him. Apparently, his handler had messed up the hotels and he was staying at a different one than the rest of the cast. Which wouldn't bother him, wasn't he nearly wasted and just finding out about it, at  _ who knows _ what time, when all he wanted was to go to fucking sleep. And the worst part was that he had to leave before Jared could finish talking to the girl.

I mean- not the worst, or anything. He just thought she was cute. And talented. And it's not like he was planning on doing anything, really. If the girl was always grabbing so much attention, it would end up badly. Most importantly, she probably wouldn't even be into him, to begin with. Richard couldn't tell for sure, but she seemed younger than him, by a lot. 

So if he thought she was banging hot, and felt disappointed that he couldn't get a word with her, then,  _ well _ , no one needs to know.

Richard was standing alone and then he wasn't, that he can remember. Mystery Girl was looking at him, a smirkish smile on her red lips. It was dark and cold so he thinks they were outside, but he can't recall outside  _ where _ . Why was she there with him is also blurry. She asked him something, and he replied, and she laughed, so it must have made sense. Then-... 

Then he woke up.

The first thing he noticed was a pounding headache, and the fact that there was light fucking  _ everywhere _ .

He shut his eyes closed, groaning. But he didn't stay like that for much longer.

A little more looking around and he realized it was because it was morning already, and the curtains were open. He was... In his hotel room, most likely. But Richard wasn't sure how he had gotten there. His hand reached for the night table, looking for his phone, but his fingers brushed something cool and he looked up, to find a glass of water and a couple of aspirins there.

A little note rested in front of the glass, reading  _ ‘Drink Me' _ . Then, he heard the shower go off. 

_ Wait, what? _

He hadn't realized it was running, so he must have been used to the sound when he woke up. The clock behind the glass marked 09:48 am, so he let out a sigh of relief.

He wasn't late,  _ yet _ . Richard sat on the bed  _ -too fast ugh my head- _ and swallowed the painkillers, before drowning the entire glass. 

His next thought was  _ please, God, don't let it be a fan _ . It was nothing personal, really, but those kinds of things tend to go real bad real fast, and with the divorce, he really did not have the energy to deal with a mess like that. 

So he attempted to get up, and he noticed, to his relief, that he had boxers on. The chance that he'd put them back on was minimal, so maybe, the person on the shower was Rob, who had shown up to make sure he got to the Panel on time. 

That was what he was thinking, when he picked up his pants from the floor and a single high heeled shoe fell off.

Crap.

#  post-shower scene:

Y/N heard some noises outside the bathroom and froze, expecting Richard to say something. But he didn't, so she shrugged and continued to dry herself. With only her dress on, she walked out and looked around the suite for him. She found him standing in front of the massive window, looking down towards the street.

"Uh, hey." He turned around surprised, and she saw his shirt was still unbuttoned.  _ Damn _ . "I took a shower, hope you don't mind. And I made coffee if you want some, it's on the kitchen, it should still be hot."

It was her. Mystery Girl.  _ In his room. _

"Uh..."

More flashes came from the previous night. A bar- No, it looked more like a club. They were drinking together, and dancing, and then they were in a taxi.

"I'm Y/N, in case you don't remember. How are you feeling?" He blinked slowly, as he shook the hand she extended.

"I  _ do _ remember," he lied.

"No you don't," she teased, "I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't remember who  _ you _ are."

He laughed a humorless laugh, his nervousness filtering through. On the bright side, she didn't seem like a fan. Good.

"Was I really that drunk?"

"Not when we met," He nodded, and she continued, "...then I added vodka."

What should he do now? The girl he had been crushing on -Y/N, apparently- was on his hotel room, with her hair wet and carrying her bra on one hand. 

It's not necessary to say he liked how the situation was going.

But he was supposed to be introducing a panel in five minutes, and another one at eleven. At least he'd have time to take a nap before going to his own panel after lunch break, he thought. Rich didn't want to kick her out, but he didn't have many other options either.

Before he could panic, she made that decision for him.

"I have to go now, but..." She smiled, and Richard felt like he could watch her face for a whole year. "I had fun."

"Y- You did?"

"Yeah. Even drunk, you're funny."

_ ‘Funny' _ ? That's not the word he was expecting. She shoved her clothes on her purse before opening the door, and almost running into Rob, who was about to knock.

" _ Oh! _ Uh, sorry. I think I have the wrong room-..."

"I'm just leaving, actually," She smiled, awkwardly, "have a nice day."

"You... Too?" She dodged him gracefully and Rob watched her walk away, frowning. The next thing she heard was hurried steps behind her.

"Wait!" 

She turned, and found the guy whose room she had just left, fidgeting with his hands. 

"I- I hope you don't find this weird or anything, but..."  _ Red flag _ . Y/N's eyebrows raised, and she silently prayed that she hadn't misjudged him the previous night. "Did we- Y'know, have-..?"

She sighed in relief, before smiling kindly. "No, we didn't." Great news: He wasn't a creep. He just needed to learn how to handle his alcohol. 

That wasn't the answer he was looking for, apparently, because he continued, regardless of his growing impatient friend, still standing by the door.

"Did I do something wrong or..?"

"What? No, no, you were amazing," she clarified, placing her hand on his shoulder to support her words, "but you were very drunk. I didn't realize until we were here, but... Yeah."

Richard felt his face get red. Was she gently saying that he couldn't get it up? Somebody kill him, now. He didn't have the courage to finish this conversation. 

Still, he forced a smile and a humorous tone. "Sorry to disappoint, then."

She laughed, and not even the dark circles under her eyes could disguise the sweetness in her expression.

"I meant it, I had a good time. But I'm a strong believer in consent, so..."

"Wait, what?" 

If she noticed the confusion on his voice, or in his face, or  _ everywhere _ , she didn't say. Instead, she continued.

"You were worse than I was.  _ A lot _ worse. That's not sex, that's rape."

"But I'm a-" He stopped himself before he could finish the sentence, but it was too late.

_ A guy, _ he was going to say. She knew it, and he knew she knew.

Y/N narrowed her eyes, and her smile faltered for a second, just to be replaced with a colder one.

"I'm gonna pretend you didn't imply what you  _ clearly _ just implied."

"I- I didn't mean it like that."

She sighed. She didn't know why, but she believed him. 

"I know. Guess I'll see you around."

"Yeah, uh... Sorry."

She laughed softly. "Your friend is waiting for you." 

Richard turned to where she was looking at, and when he returned his eyes to Y/N, she was already walking away.

#  con scene:

**"We're gonna be late!"**

"I know, I'm sorry!"

**"Hurry!"**

I slipped my sneakers on as Riley continued to sign behind me- Strategically standing where her reflection on the mirror in front of me would be in my line of vision. 

Displeased with the look of my ponytail, I tightened it and put it on a black baseball cap, before spinning on my heels to face Riley.

"See? I'm ready, and we can still make it." 

She rolled her eyes, before turning around and practically running to the door. I looked kinda like trash, but we were running way too behind on schedule and Riley would shoot me if I wasted any more time.

Damned whiskey eyes.

I saw them for the first time while I was on stage. I knew he had been staring at me, but I wasn't gonna give him the satisfaction of turning to face him- And so I waited until he got distracted. 

I don't even know what I found so attractive, but whatever it was, it was  _ strong _ . I would have gone after him if Riley hadn't intercepted me when I finished singing. 

I had lost hope to see him again until I had him in front of me. He wasn't extraordinarily drunk, but the alcohol was catching up with him. Now that he was closer, I could appreciate that he was older than I had originally thought.

Not  _ crazy old _ , sure, but older than me. And older than the men I usually date- which isn't exactly my age range, to begin with.

_ It's not like you're going to marry him, _ I told myself,  _ what's the worst thing that could happen? _

And so I smiled, and the next thing I know is that he's walking over to where I'm standing.

I got a name for those eyes.  _ Richard _ .

I convinced him to come with me. We got into a party soon after, and we danced and we left with a bottle of vodka, just to run to a club a block away from there.

It wasn't too long until I suggested taking the party somewhere else. 

When we were in the taxi, however, I got worried. He was way too out of it, and  _ yeah _ , I was drunk too, but he could barely stand.

He threw up in the bathroom of the hotel, and I caressed his back and pulled his hair out of the way. 

Of course I noticed that his room was a suite- and very high, mind you- but I didn't point it out. He wasn't tired yet, he said, and so we flirted and joked a little, before he passed out on the bed.

I set an alarm for 9:20 am, and I let myself fall asleep beside him.

I was pulled out of my thoughts by Riley's fists making the sign for my name. 

"Yeah, yeah... I'm coming."

###  \----

"Listen, if I fall asleep," Riley turned to see me as she placed her backpack on her lap, "don't wake me until this thing is over, okay?"

She nodded, and then rolled her eyes, signing  **'bitch'** with a playful smile on her face.

I closed my eyes and sat down on my chair, as the fans continued to enter the room and take their places. 

I was drifting away into a dreamless slumber when I heard it.

My eyes shot open and I sat up straight, grabbing Riley's attention.

**"Are you okay?"** She asked, frowning, but I didn't see her. 

There, on the stage, besides the guy I ran into this morning, was Richard.

That  _ motherfucker _ .

I turned to see my sister, and I found her already staring at me.

"Do you know who that is?" I whispered, and she nodded, before taking her phone out of her purse and starting to type.

Through the microphone, Rich and the other guy, who introduced himself as Rob, welcomed everyone to the panel and made jokes that I didn't really understand.

Ri handed her phone to me, the notes app open.

_ Those are actors from the show, their characters don't really appear much so now they do other stuff like going to conventions or directing _

Fuck. 

**"Are you okay?"** She insisted, and I nodded half-heartedly.

So, he's a celebrity. Well,  _ shit _ . 

My sister was still staring at me, so I signed  **'all good'** with the most reassuring expression I could manage before returning to my original position in the chair.

This time, instead of sleeping, I took out my phone, and after setting the brightness to a minimum, I went to Google.

The first page that showed up after I typed in  _ 'Richard supernatural' _ was a Wikipedia page.

_ His _ Wikipedia page.

The first thing that got my attention was his age. I knew he was older, but I had underestimated the age gap a little. 

He was almost twenty years older than me. Nineteen, but whatever. My oldest boyfriend had been twelve years older than me, and we didn't even last that long.

And just as I was starting to realize that I was thinking as if we were going to date, I reached the word  _ Spouse (s). _

Shit. 

He's  _ married _ ? Oh, God. I almost slept with  _ a married man. _

But I didn't, and that's what matters, right? And he's the one who didn't tell me he was married. And he's the one who walks around  _ without _ his ring. This isn't on me.

But shit, I still felt like crap- Especially when I read that he had three kids.

Jaci Hays, married in 2003. I opened a new tab and entered her name. The first suggestion felt like a slap in the face:

_ Jaci Hays Speight. _

Oh God, I'm an awful person.

I tapped on it, and after opening her IMBd page in another tab, I went to the images. 

Fuck, she was gorgeous. The first one that showed up was a gif of them both in a photo booth, kissing each other's cheeks and hugging.

Next, a red carpet picture. She looks like a model. I pick at my yoga pants unconsciously, realizing my actions just after I hear the  _ 'snap' _ of the fabric against my thigh.

People around me start cheering and I look up, watching a third and fourth man walk into the stage.

I don't pay them much attention.

_ God, he's fucking beautiful. And so is she. Oh, God, I'm going to hell. What if his friend thinks we had sex and tells her? What if-... _

I took a deep breath and turned my screen off. Another deep breath. I turn it on, and close both tabs before turning it off again.

_ This isn't on me. And I didn't do anything. It's fine. _

I put the phone in my purse and close my eyes.  _ It's fine. _

#  lunch scene:

Riley woke me up when people started to leave. We were supposed to have lunch now, just like most people, and then come back for another panel. She wanted to ask a question, so I had to be there. On the upside, since I was her interpreter, I got in for free.

Count your blessings, I guess.

**"Do you remember the address Katie gave us?"** Riley asked once we were out of the sea of people.

"Yep. Do you want to walk or should I call an Uber?"

After a second of thought, she made the sign for walking.

I was too sleepy to think about anything that wasn't a bed or a coffee maker, so I put the address Riley's friend had given us into Google Maps and let it guide us. 

Katie and Riley had met at school- Like the rest of the alumni, Katie was deaf, but what brought them together was their love of Supernatural and all things fandom. 

She was more experienced with conventions, though, and she knew this city like the palm of her hand. She recommended us the hotel we stayed at and the best time to get the tickets- Honestly, who knows how much we saved thanks to her. And God knows we need it.

She also recommended us the best place to get lunch around here. Somehow it wasn't that well known around the con attendees, and that meant things would be moving a lot faster than in the rest of the restaurants in the area.

Only when we reached the restaurant and I opened my purse, I realized I was missing my planner. 

The one that had my service pass- the one I needed to get into the panel.

_ Crap.  _

**"What?"** Riley asked, frowning at my expression.

"I-... I don't have my planner here."

She opened her eyes in horror. After a second of thinking, she took a deep breath and started to type in her phone:  **"Let's do this: You order the food and I wait for it while you go to the room to get it. I'll wait here ?"**

The last question mark meant she was just suggesting a solution, and as much as I wanted to take a nap right there, it was the best idea we had. I nodded.

She did a little thumbs up, smiling, and I returned the gesture. With a quick hand movement, I called a waitress to our table and ordered a burger for each of us.

We were eating  _ 'thematic', _ according to Riley, so I also asked her to bring her pie once she was done.

Once the girl realized Riley used sign language, she inaccurately signed  **"Sure, right away"** , with a proud smile on her face, and walked away.

"I'm going to go now, okay?" Riley nodded, "Text me if anything happens. Call if it's an emergency and I'll be here in a second."

**"Yes, sir."**

"Dumbass."

I left my purse with her, since it was kinda heavy and it would slow me down, only grabbing my phone before running out of the restaurant. 

I didn't make it very far, though. After a few steps, I realized I wasn't really sure of the exact route from my location to the hotel, so I opened Maps and started to type. And then, two steps after  _ that _ , I walked into something. 

I looked up and I couldn't help to gasp.

Damned whiskey eyes.

Right in front of me.

"Sorry," I mumbled. 

Why in the fuck did I have to run into him? And so close to where my sister was, where she could see us? I tried to go around him to keep walking, but he lifted his hands in an _ , allegedly _ , calming motion.

"Y/N, hold up."

"Hey, Richard," I said, forcing a smile on my face. Not that I wasn't happy to see him, but the only words my mind seemed to remember were  _ ‘Your sister!' _ and  _ ‘His wife!' _ and I was already freaking out- This wasn't helping. "I'm in a rush, but..."

"Looking for this?" 

In his hands, the fake leather cover I knew so well. My tight smile was replaced with a genuine one as I let out a sigh of relief.

"Holy shit, yes!" How I missed it before I will never know. I looked up to see him and he had this little proud smirk on his face, like he was expecting this reaction. "Thank you, really- God, you saved my life. Thank you," I insisted.

My eyes betrayed me because I could have sworn I saw him blush.

"Call it retribution for the coffee earlier," he smiled. I grabbed the planner from his hands and opened it, flipping the pages. Right where I remembered putting it, I found the pass. "Service?" He asked, noticing.

"Yeah," I nodded, and then everything I was freaking out about just a second ago came back to me, fast. "But- Where did you find it?"

"You left it in my room," he explained. "And knowing how  _ stalker-y _ this is gonna sound, I looked for where you were going to be so I could give it to you."

"It's okay, it's fine, uh-" There really wasn't much else to say right now. "I would have never made it in time, so really, thank you."

He smiled, relieved. "It's nothing."

"Are you feeling better?"  _ You're supposed to be ending this conversation. _

Richard nodded, slowly. "Yeah. Thanks. What about you?"

"Me too, I got a little more sleep after I left so... Yeah."  _ Dear God, stop talking!  _

"Listen, I gotta go," he said, and then he asked, "will I see you again?" 

It sounded  _ a lot _ more "rom-com cliche" than he had intended, apparently, because he seemed just as taken aback by his words as I did.

"I'm not sure," I replied, honestly, but before I could explain anything else to him he pointed at the pass, remembering.

"Right, you're working!” I nodded. Another realization hit him right after: “Wait, does that mean you've never seen the show?"  _ What the hell are you going to tell Riley if she sees you talking with one of her  _ married _ idols!? _

"Didn't you say you had to go?" I recalled, in a voice tone that could have been easily confused with playing hard to get- Which was absolutely not my intention. Damnit.

"Yeah, you're right."

“Bye, Richard.”

“See ya, (Y/N).”

I turned around and walked back into the restaurant. Riley frowned when she saw me, but then her eyes went to the planner and sighed in relief.

**"How'd you find it so fast?"**

I lied. "A fan found it and looked for me to return it," I smiled, thanking God when the waitress interrupted my story.

**"Thank God,"** Riley signed, before biting her hamburger.

"Yeah," I muttered.

#  panel:

I did my best not to think about anything that had happened. Riley shrugged it off as being tired for partying all night, and I had never been happier to see her mocking me.

But as much as I tried, all my efforts came crashing down when, once we were back at the con, I opened my planner and found something scribbled there. 

His number.

_ What in the-!? _

**“We should get in line,”** Riley said, tugging at my sleeve right after. I started to follow her, and she released my arm to say  **“Have your pass ready.”**

“Got it.”

It was already packed with people, which probably shouldn’t have surprised me as much as it did. Katie had warned us about it.

Time went by pretty fast after we got in line. So fast, actually, that the next thing I knew was that we were waiting Riley’s turn to ask her question. A guy with a black “SECURITY” t-shirt did a double take at the two of us, but before he could make his way here I lifted my service pass, which earned me an acknowledgment nod.

Questions were asked and answered, there were jokes and laughs and stories and then it was Riley's turn. The security guy took the microphone and gave it to me, while Riley stepped into the spot designed for the person asking.

"Hi, my name's Riley," I repeated after her, and I smiled at the cheering from the audience.

"Hi, Riley," smiled one of the guys on stage.

"Let me guess, Eileen is your favorite character," joked the tall guy from yesterday.

"Actually, my favorite character is Sam," she smiled, blushing, and I repeated it as clearly as I could. 

The guy rose his fist in victory, as one of his friends gestured Riley to go on.

"My question is for all of you... First I wanted to thank you all for everything, you've helped me and a lot of us survive some really difficult things and I am very grateful." The audience cheered again in agreement, and Riley went on, "My question is, will we see you acting again after Supernatural ends, or are you doing something else?"

Some fans complained at the mention of Supernatural ending, and they only calmed down when one of the guys reached for the microphone and said, faking offense, "How  _ old _ do you think we are?"

His friends added on to the joke quickly.

"We're too young to be retiring!"

"Yeah! We're at the prime of your youth!"

The audience laughed, and when they calmed down, the guy from last night spoke.

"But seriously now, I know we try not to think about Supernatural ending and all, but I can say, like... At least in my case, I'm gonna keep acting, y'know?" Another round of claps and cheers broke at that, and the guy smiled in relief. "Acting is my passion, and I wanna keep doing it."

"Yeah, same for me. I mean, I'm gonna have to get used to auditioning again," the other one joked, and the audience laughed, "Last time I did this was fourteen years ago, give me a break!" He dramatized.

Everyone laughed, including the people on stage, and when the noise calmed down, tall guy spoke again.

"So I guess, to answer your question; Yes, we'll keep acting."

Riley quickly signed  **"Thank you,"** and I repeated it, and the audience clapped politely.

But before we could make our way back to the seats, a blonde girl on stage spoke, stopping us.

"Oh come on now, what was that? I'm sure you can do better!" She pointed at us with her palm open and insisted, "Let's hear it!"

Claps and cheers broke out through the room again, deafening me for a second. The woman waited until the noise died out to add. "I think it was really brave of you to come up here today. I'm- We're all very proud of you."

I saw the shine of a few tears pooling in Riley's eyes as she signed **"Thank you"** again.

People cheered for Riley one last time and we made the way to our seats happily.

When we sat down, she wiped the tears off her cheeks and sighed, with a permanent smile on her face.

I put my arm over her shoulders and we stayed like that for the rest of the panel.

#  number:

The panel was over, but the day was just beginning. For Riley, at least.

I had lost sight of her about two hours ago. I wasn't worried, though, since I was sitting next to the only exit that wasn't designed for emergencies- She was still in there,  _ somewhere, _ lost in that sea of people and having the time of her life.

I ran my fingers through the cover of my planner for what had to be the millionth time.

Richard's number was in there. 

_ God fucking damnit _ . Richard's number was in there and I  _ wanted _ to text him- Even knowing he was married and that  _ I should not _ .

I took a deep breath.

Two times already people had stopped by to ask me if I was alright, so I did my best not to look like I was having a crisis.

Which was hard because, honestly, I kinda was.

Part of me was 100% convinced that the right thing to do was tear that page out and throw it away- Probably down the toilet or something, to make sure no random fan would find it; While the other part, smaller for now, had a lot of very good points, such as, "if he's married, where the hell is his ring?" or, even better, "if he doesn't care about his marriage, why should you?"

And that was without even thinking about Riley, and what would happen if she found out about anything that had happened.

So,  _ naturally _ , I had some mixed feelings.

Because, technically, I didn't have the whole story. I mean, most likely.

But besides, what would I even say?

_ 'Imagine my surprise when I saw you on the stage' _ ?

That's... Actually pretty good, to be honest.  _ What? No! I'm not going to text him! _

_ And that's final- Even if it would be the perfect opening and would also give me an opportunity to ask about his wife _ . 

When I heard myself, I sighed. 

Who was I kidding? I really wanted to text him. But I couldn't. And not only because he was married- Or fake married, or on a break or whatever the hell he was- but because of Riley. 

And  _ shit _ , if I had known Riley was such a turn off I would have started thinking about her three hours ago. 

Just to  _ imagine _ her reaction to me banging one of the people she looks up to the most- Yeah, but  _ no _ . Don't matter how hot he was or how funny or how fucking gorgeous his eyes were- Riley was a bigger priority here.

And now that I had that motivation, all I was left to struggle with was the curiosity. 

Because what the hell was a celebrity thinking, going around without his wedding band and nearly sleeping with a random woman?

But the more I thought about it, the more I convinced myself I could just find that out and move on with my life. Even more, the  _ only _ way I could truly move one with my life was to find that out. I need  _ closure _ , or whatever.

_ Y/N you are such a fucking idiot. _

I pulled out my phone, wrote in his number and typed in the message.

And then I hit send.

_ Y/N, you are SUCH a fucking idiot _ .

The reply came soon:

_ Who's this? _

_ Do you give out your number often? _

That was such an overused cliche- And, the worst part, the answer could be yes. So I deleted it and started over, adding more detail:

_ Do you write your number in a lot of people's planners? _

_ Hey, Y/N. _

_ And, yeah, sorry about the shock. _

_ I keep forgetting you're clueless about all this. _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


#  midlife crisis:

"Are you having a midlife crisis!?"

"What? No, I'm not having a crisis!"

"Then what do you call  _ that?" _ Rob asked, whispering, as he pointed at the girl discreetly.

"Her name is (Y/N)," he said, slowly, "I asked her to come with me."

"As your  _ date!? _ Rich, are you out of your mind!? This-" Richard looked away, and sighed, but his friend didn't stop, "This is definitely a midlife crisis. It's because of the divorce, isn't it?"

"This has nothing to do with Jaci," he said, but Rob rolled his eyes in response.

"Sure not. The little trophy over there just  _ happened _ to run into you. Are you sure she's not a fan?"

"She's not a fan, but her sister is," he explained, and then added, hesitant, "that's why she was at the con..."

"She-  _ She was at the con!? _ Are you kidding me?" Then, his frown vanished as his eyes shot open in realization. "She's the girl from the bar! You told me nothing happ-"

"Keep it down!" Richard ordered, suddenly feeling brave. "Nothing happened that weekend, except me giving her my number, alright?"

"So!? Richard, it doesn't matter! Any fan who remembers her will assume the same thing!"

"

.....

  
  


“She's not a fan, and she's not a fucking sugar baby. She's just... Younger."

" _ How _ younger?" Rob insisted, "She must be, what? Twenty two?"

"She's twenty nine, actually."

"Oh, yeah, just nineteen years of difference. No big deal," He said, sarcastically. "The fans surely won't mind."

"Robbie," he started.

"No, have you thought about that? What will happen when you finally make the divorce public and tell everyone you're dating someone half your age?"

"Robert!" They both froze, staring at each other for a long second. "You really think I don't know that?" Richard asked, voice weak. "I know this is going to explode in my face, okay? I  _ know _ that, but-" He inhaled sharply and started over, "I haven't been this happy in a long time, Bobbo, not even before the divorce."

"I can't just watch you get fucked over by Miss Daddy Issues over there," he replied, still angry, pointing at her with his head.

"Me neither, but if that's the price I have to pay..."

Robert looked at Richard again and rubbed his face with his hands. "Are you- God, you're in  _ deep _ . She really has you by the collar here-"

"Don't talk about her like that," he said, but there was no fight in him. It was a gentle request at best, and Rob could not care less about it at the moment.

Because his best friend was at the hands of a gold digger, and he wasn't going to let her screw him over. Not if he had anything to do with it.

\--------------------------------

“Hey, (Y/N)?” Called Rob as he made his way to the bar. I looked up from my drink, kinda surprised to see him talking to me. “What happened? Rich left you alone here?”

“Bathroom break,” I explained, smiling.  _ There they are _ , I thought,  _ those weird ass vibes _ . 

“Oh, great, cause I was hoping to have a word with you,” he said, with an excitement that was borderline maniac. “I just realized that I know nothing about you!”

“Well, yeah...” I replied, awkwardly, “We’ve just met.”

“Oh I know, but Richard talks about you so much that I feel like I know you already,” he said. _What?_ _How could he have him told him anything when we were keeping things secret?_ And then, I realized- Rob was lying. “But I really don’t.”

_...How dumb does he think I am? _

“Well, what do you wanna know?”

“What do you do for a living?”

“I wait tables and perform at a diner, and occasionally I work as an interpreter too."

I saw the superiority smirk that formed in his face, but I still held my face high. I'm not ashamed of what I do for a living. And he's not going to make me.

" _ Right _ , and you're almost thirty, right?"

"Yep," I replied, and then gave him a tight lipped smile.

He nodded condescendingly, but I didn't even blink. He doesn't have that kind of power over me.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


#  barbecue scene:

"I mean, she's done pretty much everything there is. She's (bla bla bla), and she wrote a book on threesomes."

"Uhh, freaky," she joked. Misha didn't laugh, but apparently, she didn't notice.

When Rich met his eyes, he found an annoyance he didn't see often.  _ Sorry _ , he mouthed, and Misha softened his expression in response.  _ It's not your fault _ , it meant.

The rest of the party went on uneventfully. Both Riley and (Y/N) were being included, and Rich received a few approving comments about his relationship, and he would be lying if he said it didn't make him feel better.

It's not the first, and it surely won't be the last time someone in the industry dated someone half their age, but Rich thought he would have a harder time proving (Y/N) wasn't just some two-dimensional eye candy hanging from his arm.

His friends seemed honestly cool with her, and even when he still needed to meet hers, it felt like a weight off his chest.

His mind was thinking exactly that when someone knocked on the door.

(Y/N) looked at Rich.

"Are we expecting someone else?" He shook his head, so she got up and headed back inside, curious.

When (Y/N) opened the door, she gasped.

"Ale? What are you doing here?"

"That's  _ so nice _ , it's good to see you too!" She sassed, her colombian accent showing through her English.

Y/N laughed and hugged the newcomer.

"I've missed you. Come on in," she invited once they had separated, "I didn't know you were back in town."

"Well, I had something to do and I thought I could come to visit for a few minutes."

Y/N frowned, disappointed.

"You're not staying?"

"No, I still have a lot to do before catching a plane this evening."

"What are you doing here, then?"

"I have something for you," she smirked, and handed over a peach envelope. "Save the date."

Y/N's eyes shot open with realization. 

"Oh my God, really?" Ale nodded, grinning, and Y/N hugged her again, almost lifting her from the floor. "Congratulations! I'm so happy for you!"

"Thanks, it really means a lot." The girl stepped away from the hug, her face darker than before. "I come from my dad's house, he's making a huge deal out of the fact that we're-- Oh, hi."

Y/N turned to follow her eyes and found Rich and Misha standing in the kitchen door.

"Hi, nice to meet you. I'm Misha, and he's Rich."

"Nice to meet you too, I'm poor."

Richard laughed, but Y/N rolled her eyes.

"Hate to break this to you, but your jokes are still terrible."

"You love them, don't try to deny it," She argued, faking indignation. Then, she turned to the boys again. "I'm Alejandra. Or Ale. I used to live in the house in front of this one."

"So you grew up together?" Asked Richard, sensing a chance of learning more about Y/N's past.

"You could say."

"Why don't you stay, then? We're having a barbecue in the backyard."

Ale turned to see (Y/N), looking for backup, but she found a plea in her friend's face.

"I still have to hand out a bunch of those, so-..."

"What if you stayed a couple hours and then I helped you?"

"Y/N..."

"What time does your plane leave?"

"I have to be there 18:30," Alejandra replied, "I guess I can stay around a little while. But not too much, okay? I promised the boys I'd be back by tonight."

"Of course you did, you kin-"

"Don't use the k-word, please," she stopped her, the seriousness filtering through her relaxed smile.

"Shit, sorry. Got it," Y/N assured. "Was it really that bad?"

"Mom took my side, so that's something, but..."

"Well that's good news! I'm sure he'll pull his head out of his ass by-  _ When _ , did we say?"

"It's on the card."

Y/N opened the envelope, admiring the handwriting, and let out an excited scream. Ale laughed and she wrapped her arms around her, a gesture she gladly returned.

"I'm so proud of you!"

"Thanks."

"So, who's the lucky one?" Asked Richard.

Alejandra broke the hug and shoot Y/N a highly distressed look. 

"It's cool, they're cool." Ale narrowed her eyes, and Y/N insisted, "I swear, no one here is going to make a big deal out of it."

Misha and Rich traded confused looks, but they kept quiet until Alejandra turned to them and replied.

"It's not lucky  _ one _ ," she explained, "it's lucky two. I'm in a poly relationship."

Misha's eyes widened, and then he grinned.

"Wow, really? That's amazing!" 

Y/N could see the weight disappearing from Alejandra's shoulders.  _ Good, _ she thought,  _ I'm sure she's had enough for one day. _

"I see why you'd be worried, but I really doubt anyone will make you feel bad about it," Smiled Rich, "And if you get uncomfortable, let them know. They have good intentions, but sometimes they can be-..."

"I know. Thanks."

"Come on, I'll get you a beer," Y/N smiled, dragging her outside gently.

##  (Y/N)'s POV:

Just as we were walking out the door, Rich stopped me. Ale noticed I let go of her and turned to see me, a questioning look on her face.

I gave her a reassuring nod, which she returned, before following Misha outside.

The last thing I heard was his voice, saying,  _ "You know? My wife actually wrote a book..." _

I turned to see Rich, and I placed my hands on his chest, caressing him kindly.

"Everything okay, babe?"

"(Y/N), does she-... Does Alejandra know about us?"

I frowned at the sudden insecurity in his expression. I replaced the frown with a warm smile instead. If he was feeling bad, frowning wasn't going to help.

"She knows I'm seeing someone, but I don't think she's made the connection yet." He nodded, running his tongue through his lips. "Is there something wrong?"

"No, no, not at all. It's just-... How old is she?"

"She's a year younger than me." His eyes closed, and he took a deep breath. Suddenly, I knew exactly what this was about. "Richard, listen to me: She doesn't give a crap about how old you are. None of my friends will. I promise you, as long as I'm happy, they're happy. And I'm happy when I'm with  _ you _ . You hear that?"

When he looked at me again, I saw a little hint of calmness in his eyes.

"I'm sorry."

"You did nothing wrong. You don't need to apologize," I assured. He nodded, a little smile creeping in his face. I took that as a win, and I smiled widely. "I'm proud to be seen with you. You're handsome," I gave him a quick peck on the cheek, "and smart," another one to the other cheek, counting, "and funny," a peck to his chin, "and kind," I finished, kissing him in the lips. "And let's not forget  _ very _ hot," I smirked, making him laugh as a small blush made its way into his face. "And as long as you want me here, I'll stay right by your side, making sure you know that. Okay?"

"Okay." He shook off the concern from his mind and grabbed my hand. "Let's go, I think you owe someone a beer."

###  \---

"Can I talk with you for a second?"

When I looked up from my phone, I found Misha standing in front of me. I scooted over in the bench, making room for him, and he sat beside me.

The fire on the grill was almost out, but it was still warm enough to fight off the cold of the night. Riley had dropped Ale at the airport after promising we'd hand the invitations for her, because, unsurprisingly, she stayed for too long and we hadn't had enough time.

"Is everything alright?"

"There's something I've been meaning to ask." I nodded, encouraging, as I turned my phone's screen off and put it in my pocket. "I was surprised when I met Alejandra. In a good way, of course," he clarified instantly, "I hope I didn't harass her too much, but it's always exciting to meet people in polygamous relationships." He wasn't done, so I nodded along with his words and gave him time to get his ideas in order. "I was surprised too, because I didn't expect you to be accepting of these kinds of things." 

I frowned, and he could see it even when I tried to suppress it. Part of me likes not being what people expect from me, but sometimes... It can be tiring. 

I don't think I could explain it even if I tried, but-... Even when I know I look, (and sound, too- For the first impressions, at least,) like certain type of person, it's still disappointing to know I fail at projecting my real personality through my actions. 

He realized it because he hurried to clarify:

"When I talked about Vicki's book, and her job, you laughed it off-... Which it's something I'm used to,  _ yeah _ , but it doesn't stop being annoying. I-"

"I'm sorry," I interrupted. "I really wasn't trying to be disrespectful."

"Then why..?"

"Because with Alejandra... I mean, I'm not an expert. Ale is basically all the experience I have on the subject. But every time she brings it up, people make a massive deal out of it. And they start to question it, or expect her to explain every single detail of how her relationship works." Misha nodded, sympathetic. I could tell he knew first hand what I was talking about. "So when you brought up that Vicki had a book about it, I knew you had probably gone through all of that a hundred times before. 

"And I remembered, you know, how she always gets super uncomfortable and all, so I thought to myself,  _ 'why put him through that again?' _ , y'know? I thought a joke could be the way to go to avoid making you feel like this was some kind of groundbreaking revelation." I noticed the ' _ you knows _ ' creeping in my speech, and I made a mental note to keep them in line. "I'm sorry. I guess my plan backfired."

Misha laughed at my very poor attempt at a joke, and he shook his head.

"It's fine. I just- Assumed you were making fun of it. And..."

"I know. I could tell right away it was not the right thing to say, but I was too embarrassed to correct it. I know it sounds dumb, but..."

"No, it doesn't," he promised, "I'm glad we talked."

"Me too."

"I'm going back inside now, I'm freezing. Oh, I was supposed to let you know, Gen and Jared went to get ice cream to replace the one we ate."

I laughed softly. He got up and I followed him, stretching my legs a little.

"That's very nice, but really unnecessary. Do you think it's too late to tell them to come back?"

"I'd say so, yeah," he laughed, and pointed with his chin at the couple, who seemed to have just arrived carrying a plastic bag.

"We don't even eat ice cream, it's literally there for visitors," I said once the door was closed and we were both inside the house. 

Riley, laying in one of the bean bags, sat up and, with an offended frown, signed, **"What do you think I've been trying to tell them!?"**

Jared and Gen laughed (them being the only ones, besides me, who know ASL), and I rolled my eyes.

"I think I understood like,  _ four _ of those signs," informed Rich, and Riley laughed. I noticed she didn't cover her mouth, and I smiled just because of that. 

She didn't make any sound when she laughed, and that could make her feel very self-conscious, which normally could be noticed in the tiny details, like keeping her lips sealed at all times or covering her mouth while she laughs.

"Well, I only understood  _ 'What' _ and  _ 'I' _ , so..." said Jensen, throwing his hands in the air.

**"It's fine"** , she said, and I repeated it in English,  **"I appreciate you trying. It's very nice."**

"My pleasure," replied Jensen, making a small reverence.

I stopped paying attention to the conversation when my phone buzzed, indicating a text had arrived. It was from Ale. 

_ soooooo did I met your new man today?? _

I took a deep breath before answering.

**_Yeah but idk if you're gonna be happy abt it_ **

It was less than a second before the screen showed her typing.

_ wym??? _

**_you remember Rich?_ **

_ yeah I do _

_ is it him? _

_ why would I not be happy about it? _

**_cause he's older than he looks and idk_ **

**_I guess he was just nervous about meeting my friends and I got second hand anxiety_ **

_ well shit how old is he? _

**_don't freak_ **

**_he's 48_ **

Ale is typing...

_....... _

_ DAMN _

_ THAT BOY AGED LIKE FINE WINE _

I let out a sigh of relief that did not go unnoticed by the group.

**_lmaooooo I know_ **

"Hey, Y/N?" I looked up, Misha was frowning softly at me. "Everything alright?"

I smiled, reassuringly. "Ale was letting me know she caught the flight with no incidents."

Riley shot me a look that meant she didn't buy it, but she let it pass.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


* * *

  
trigger warning for death!!!!!!!! and just general sadness  
  


##  post operation scene:

Riley was fine. She was sitting in the white bed, smiling at me, in a blue hospital gown. Rich was right there beside me, also smiling. On the other side of the bed, a doctor stood, a bunch of papers in her hands. 

She was speaking, but I couldn't really understand what she was saying. It didn't bother me, for some reason. Riley was fine, and that was all that mattered. Even if the pink of the bed only makes her look paler.

Rich put his arm around my shoulders and Riley put on this little smile, that was both teasing and proud. I wasn't going to need to read her expressions to know what she was thinking anymore. She could just say it herself.

You know that feeling, when you are underwater, right before you start running out of air? For a second, it's only you down there, floating. No up, no down, no good, no bad, just you and the nothingness. If you close your eyes, it's like being swallowed by the void.

That's how I felt when Riley tentatively opened her mouth.

"(Y/N)?"

I opened my eyes, slowly blinking until I got used to the bright light. Richard was in front of me, one hand placed on my thigh to wake me up. We were still at the hospital, and I'd fallen asleep on one of the chairs- ...Oh. 

It was a dream. Of course.

Wait.

"Is she out of surgery yet?"

"They're moving her to one of the rooms right now."

I straightened in my seat excitedly, a gesture that made him smile.

"Have you talked to someone?"

"One of the nurses came in just now, told me the doctor needs to talk to you."

"Oh would you look at that? I'm worried already." Rich chuckled, knowing I wasn't completely joking, "Is she awake?"

"I don't think so. Come on, let's go."

###  \---

Riley was asleep when we reached the room. The nurses were still there, accommodating her in the bed.

Once they were done, one of them informed us she was going to get the doctor.

When she showed up, she was looking through some paperwork, a worried frown on her face.

"Miss (Y/L/N), overall, the operation went well..."

"Why do I feel like there's a  _ 'but' _ coming?"

"But," the doctor said, ignoring my nervous joke, "your sister reacted badly to the anesthesia, and she went into cardiac arrest during the surgery..."

"What? Is she okay? Wh-" Rich put his hands on my shoulders, half hugging me, half stopping me from doing something stupid.

"She's okay now, and she's expected to make a full recovery, but because of that she lost too much blood during the procedure, and she might need to stay here longer than expected to keep an eye on her."

"But- She's going to be okay, right?" Insisted Rich, and the doctor nodded.

"There's no reason to think otherwise. I'd suggest you go home and get some rest, because with the anesthesia, she won't wake up until tomorrow, and you won't be allowed to stay in the room with her."

"I'm staying," I stated.

I felt Richard's arms tighten around me, as he frowned worriedly. 

"(Y/N)..." I turned to look at him, "Maybe you could go home and try to sleep?" I opened my mouth to argue, but he continued immediately, "Just for a few hours. We can be back here at whatever time you want.  _ Just- _ Please?"

My frown softened, and I sighed softly. I turned again to the doctor, who waited patiently for us.

"We'll be back at 6 a.m., will you be here?"

She shook her head, slowly. "My shift starts at 8 o'clock. But there's other doctors and nurses that can keep you informed of any changes, and there might not be any."

"Thank you," I nodded, and the woman left the room seconds after.

"She's going to be okay, (Y/N)."

_ She better be. _

###  \---

We walked back into the hospital a few minutes before the clock marked 6 a.m.

I slipped on my coffee nervously. I pretended not to know that Richard had made decaf for fear of worsening my anxiety, and instead I tightened my grip on his hand.

"Thank you for being here," I muttered in a single breath.

He looked at me, taken off guard.

"Where did that come from?"

I shrugged, a small smile forming on my face.

"I don't know. I just know I'm grateful."

He looked at me, those damned whiskey eyes softening as he smiled too.

"Thank you for wanting me here."

I made eye contact with the receptionist and decided to reply to Richard with a quick smile, right before heading to the desk.

"Hi, good morning... I wanted to ask about Riley (Y/L/N)'s condition?" I said, and the girl nodded sharply and started to type something on her computer.

"Oh, found her. What's the last thing you were told?"

I frowned.  _ Shit.  _

_ I should have stayed here _ .

"Uh- She was out of surgery and she'd been moved to one of the rooms," I replied, my voice steadying as soon as Rich put his hand on my shoulder.

"Very well. It says here that her 3 a.m. check up showed early signs of infection, but she was administered antibiotics to avoid it from spreading."

Rich's hand tightened, just enough to get his message across:  _ I'm here. She's fine. We're going to be okay. _

"When can I see her?"

"Well, you arrived just in time for another check up, so as soon as the nurses are done, you should be allowed to be with her."

I nodded.

I turned around, facing Rich, and managed to take three steps before a nurse came running to the exact place we were in.

"Where's Dr. Connavan? We need him room 208  _ now _ ," he ordered, a clear tone of urgency on his voice.

_ Room 208. _

The receptionist reached for the phone and dialed three numbers. "Get Connavan to room 208," she demanded to the person on the other end, and that's when my brain finally managed to pull all the pieces together:

_ That was Riley's room. _

###  \---

A shatter, that I recognized. 

Where did it come from? 

_ We are terribly sorry, ma'am... _

Through the light; strong, white light that blinded me, I could see shapes. Barely, but it was familiar. 

The hospital, right. I'm at the hospital.  _ But why..? _

A shatter in a hospital sounds like a bad sign. Someone should go check it out.

_...but last night, your sister... _

My cheeks are wet. 

Am I crying?

_...contracted an infection that spread faster than we could fight it. Her defenses... _

Why am I crying? What is happening?

_...were too weak. She passed away. I'm very sorry for your loss... _

I'm cold. My legs are cold. Rich is holding my face but I can't make out the words coming from his mouth. 

Since when has been Richard holding me?

He's crying too? I don't understand, nothing bad happened. 

_ I'm  _ fine, and  _ he's _ fine, and  _ Riley _ is...

_...Wait _ . 

Riley.

_...last night, your sister... _

What happened to Riley?

_...too weak. She passed away. I'm... _

She d-? That's why I'm on the ground? That's why I'm crying?

_...We are terribly sorry, ma'am... _

No, that's bullshit. That's  _ bullshit _ , she's fine. 

Why are they lying to me?  _ She's fine! _

"Y/N? Y/N, please say something."

Richard. He wouldn't lie to me.

I try to speak, to ask him why are they lying, but my voice doesn't come out. Instead, a sound like no other thing I've heard before takes its place. 

Is this what Riley felt? Not anymore, she got the surgery, she's gonna be able to speak again, she's gonna-...

I can't imagine what I look like to make Richard look at me the way he's looking at me.

Oh,  _ God _ . She really is...

She can't be.

"I- Is she..?"

"I am so sorry, baby." 

His hands go from my cheeks to my shoulders and then he's hugging me, and now I can see the hospital clearly and the water fountain and the nurses whispering and that little girl who's all alone and staring at me in horror, oh my God, this is real. All of this,  _ real _ .

Riley is dead.

And as soon as I think that, I start crying into Richard's shoulder and he holds me even tighter and I just... Stop. 

Stop thinking, stop seeing, stop reasoning or even processing what's going on around me.

I'm not sure what happens next. One moment he's helping me stand up and the next I'm in the car, and then I'm throwing up in the bathroom. 

I didn't even eat.

Riley's gonna be so mad I didn't eat. No, she won't. Because she's dead. Riley's dead. And I'm crying. And Richard's here, so now I'm crying in the bed instead of on the bathroom floor.

_...We are terribly sorry, ma'am... _

Suddenly I'm in a car again. I'm in the backseat this time. There's a man driving, but it's dark everywhere and there's a light coming from in front of us so I can't really see him. There's someone riding shotgun. I can't see them either.

But then, a tiny hand reaches for mine from my left and I just know exactly what's happening.

I turn and there's Riley, and she's so small and she's giggling and then I hear the brakes and a crash and another crash and when I blink there's red everywhere and Riley is passed out besides me, and oh God she's bleeding so much, there's too much blood  _ this isn't how this is supposed to go why is this happening-  _

Riley's eyes shot open and her hand grabs my throat. She's not young anymore and the car is gone, it's just her and me _ and her hand on my neck and why is she squeezing so hard...  _ "Y/N? Y/N!"  _ I can't breathe she looks so angry why is she- _ "Y/N!"

I'm jolted back to reality. I felt hands on me and I shoved them off, still terrified. 

"It was just a nightmare." I look at Richard, and if my heart weren't already broken it would break again at his expression. "Are you okay?"

_ Am I okay? _

"Sh-... She's  _ dead..." _

His hands attempt to reach mine, but he stops them midair. I'm the one who moves closer to him, and he  _ understands _ , and puts his arms around me.

Just then I started to take in the scene around me. I was in his bedroom, in his house, wearing one of my pajamas, and the room was only illuminated by the lamp on the bed stand. I could tell it was dark outside, but he's still fully dressed, so it can't be too late.

"I'm so sorry, (Y/N)..." He muttered, his voice breaking in the middle of the sentence. Just then I realized he was choking back sobs. "I'm so, so sorry."

The jacket feels uncomfortable against my skin, but I can't bring myself to do anything about it.

There's a hole in my chest, and I'm hoping that, if he crushes me with his arms, my insides will crumble and it'll be filled.

I know it won't.

You know that feeling when you are underwater and you close your eyes and it's like you are being swallowed by the void? 

###  \---

Rich begged me to have breakfast and I threw it up fifteen minutes later. 

Rob, Jared, and Gen stopped by to offer condolences. Jensen and Danneel were flying in as soon as they left the kids at Danneel's parents. 

For the funeral.

Riley's funeral.

And I know I'm supposed to be there, I know I  _ have _ to go, because it's my sister's funeral, but... It's my sister's funeral, and I'd rather have a knife in my chest than to see her in a casquet.

To be honest, it already feels like there's something in my chest. It's both an emptiness and a rock that weighs me down and I can't even come up with a fucking decent analogy because this is  _ wrong- _ , all of this feels wrong and it doesn't feel worth making an effort for a shitty delusion that will  _ -has to- _ end soon.

I see how Jared’s eyes are red when he hugs me to tell me everything’s gonna be fine, and after I notice that, it’s impossible to ignore how everyone looks. 

I guess that, for a second, I forgot that they were grieving too. I lost a sister, but they lost a friend.

And I didn’t lose  _ a _ sister, I lost my only sister- And now I’m alone, all my family is dead and all I have is myself and that’s just not fucking enough, anyone can tell.

Gen hugs me next, and that’s when I break again- Her arms are around me, firmly, and it hits me, for the seventh time this morning, how fucking surreal all of this feels.

As if a world with no Riley were even possible. She can’t be- It’s like a nightmare, but I’m  _ not _ going to wake up. 

When I start pulling back, Gen grabs my face gently. "If you ever need to talk, I'm here. We're all here for you, (Y/N)."

I nodded weakly.

"Thank you."

When I looked at Robert, I saw the same expression I had seen on him that  **day/night (BLA BLA BLA, whenever he apologized for being a dick** ), if not worse.

"Y/N," he whispered... And somehow it's enough, somehow I understand what he means. 

He hugged me and I hugged him back, but right in that second, pain, soul crushing and almost unbearable pain hit me like a wave completely out of nowhere and I started to cry again- Not sobbing, either,  _ full on _ ugly crying, and I would have felt embarrassed If I could have felt anything that wasn't pain.

  
  



	13. alpha and omega

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> there's this series i started here called "the dorian universe" because i am not very original when it comes to names where you can read more about this girl.

Mia ran her eyes through me one last time before getting nearer. 

God, everything was going so good! I can’t believe I drove us all right into a trap.

Her closeness made the brothers nervous, since I heard their chains shaking. On my side, I did everything I could to stay calm. I practically could feel the power irradiating from her body.

**"You noticed already, didn't you?"** She said, smirking,  **_"The power."_ ** I shuddered. My hands were starting to hurt from the tightness of the handcuffs. Even now, hanging from a hook was not my main worry. If what I suspected was true, it wouldn't matter where I was.  **"Since you rejected the alpha position, somebody had to take the place, you know?"** I feel my chest aching as my eyes widened, afraid. Mia shifted her gaze between me and the Winchesters, who hadn't intervened until now because they were gagged, enjoying how I was starting to get scared.  **"And guess what: I was next in the chain of command."** I felt Sam's eyes, drooling the back of my head. He knew, partially, what an alpha was able to do.

**"Mia, stop this,"** I begged,  **"Please, stop."**

She dropped her head as her smile widened. For my disgrace, when she lifted her gaze from the dirty floor, her eyes were glowing. Red.

**"Too late for that, don't you think?"** She caressed my cheek, making a small cry escape my throat. She was enjoying it.

There might be a way out of this... But I'm not sure if I’m willing. Her face relaxed and she stepped back.

**"Let's play something."** She proposed, and then told her guards to leave us alone.  **"I ask something, and you reply. Sounds fun, doesn't it?"** She asked, staring at me. Her eyes went back to normal and I could breathe normally again. I knew Sam and Dean were just steps behind me, confused and scared. I wanted to help them with all my strengths; tell them what was happening, try to explain them... But I couldn't let her attention focus on them. That would be my end.  **"How far would you go to save your little friends?"** She asked, pointing at them with her head. When I felt the tears forming in my eyes, my father's words came to me like a flood.  _ Don't ever let them know how you feel. Don't show any pain. _ I rushed to blink them away, pulling myself together, but I remained silent. She narrowed her eyes, angry, looking directly at me.

**"Mia..."** I gave up, trying to persuade her, but I found myself interrupted by a scream that left me shaking.

**"ANSWER THE QUESTION!"**

When I felt the words trying to escape my lips I noticed that her eyes were glowing again.

**"Death."**

Fuck.  _ Goddamnit _ . I can't deny a direct order from my alpha, and I know it, but sure as hell I can try.

**"Oh, I see."** She responded, as she glimpsed at the reactions of the brothers.  **"** **_Your_ ** **death?"**

**"No."** _Come on, Ness. Fight it._

**"Al-righty,"** she sang out, pleased.  **"When was the last time you killed an innocent?"**

**"...Eighteen months ago."** Sam didn't knew about that. Neither did Dean, and that's when I understood what the bitch was truly playing at. She didn't want to bother me, but  _ them _ . Pin them against me. See how far would I go to protect this friendship. How far would it go by itself.

_ Not too far if we keep going like this, _ I thought.

**"Do they know what happened? Did they know at all?"**

**"No."**

She raised both of her eyebrows, in a fake gesture of surprise.

**"** **_Ouch_ ** **. Why didn't you tell them?"**

I tried, I swear. I tried to fight back the urge to answer, but all my efforts were useless.

**"I was scared."** I heard Sam's heart racing up. Oh, no. God no.  **"Please stop this. Please."**

**"Hush now,"** she ordered.  **"We're only on question number six. It's time for you to stop fighting back my orders."**

I frowned for a second, confused, and she noticed.

**"Oh, yes, I feel it. I feel you trying not to answer. And it pisses me off. I mean it,** **_stop fighting me_ ** **."**

**"Never."**

She groaned loudly, annoyed.  **"What is it with you all and that martyr shit?"** She asked, watching the three of us.  **"Let's keep going, can we?"** She asked me.  **"Seriously, Ness. What are you even fighting for?"**

I shutted my eyes strongly. I could physically feel myself losing the trust of the brothers, that I had worked so hard to build.

**"Do you think they trust you?"**

I shot my eyes open. Not that. How did she know? I tightened my jaw and I fought. Why am even fighting for, you say? I pictured our second night in the bunker. I remembered waking up crying. I remembered both brothers breaking into my room. I remembered how they stayed with me until I had calmed down. I remembered the dumb movie on Sam's laptop, I remembered the microwave popcorn, I remembered the jokes, and the laughs, and the smell of the pillows. 

And I knew exactly what was I fighting for.

**"Is that a no?"** She teased. Sam tried to speak, but all that came out was a silenced mumbling.  **"Quiet!"** She barked. He held her gaze, determined. She rolled her eyes.  **"I see why you're together. Ness, tell him to shut up."**

Oh, no. I couldn't. She didn't knew it, but one of Sam's worst memories about his father was the first time he told him to shut up. He yelled it and raised his hand to slap him, but he froze before doing it and put his arm down. He had told me not so long ago, in one of those nights when we stayed up until 04:30 am talking. Ha had told me how it hurt, how useless he had felt. I couldn't tell him to shut up. He wouldn't stand it. 

_ I _ wouldn't stand it.

I put all my strength on resisting the burning urge, thing that pissed her off even more.

**"Tell him."** I felt my lips trembling.  _ No. Fight it. _

Even with my mouth closed, my vocal chords were trying to speak. I hid my head between my arm and my neck, keeping her from seeing me, but not the boys, who could see me struggling. I was barely in control of what I was doing. I felt my claws come and go, the same with my fangs, and my entire body was shaking. But, no matter what, I was not going to say it.

**"Come on, kid! Just say it!"** She insisted. Her eyes were glowing brighter than before, with a flaming red. She was struggling too, trying to take over my actions again.

For a brief moment, the thought of  _ "Do it for Sam" _ flashed through my mind renewing my concentration. A growl escaped my lips when I stood up firmly and looked deep into her eyes.

**"No."**

Mia took a step back fearful, narrowing her eyes, like she couldn't believe what she was seeing. She regained her confidence almost instantly.  **"Then don't. You know the only way out of this, but we all know you won't do it. Ha!"** She laughed.  **"Not the first family you would sacrifice to avoid it."** I stood still, as determined as I was before.  **"And since I would be stupid from me to push you into doing it,"** she added, way more nicely,  **"I'm gonna offer you something."**

.

.

.

**"Your friends don't trust you."** Pointed out Mia, politely.  **"Not anymore, at least. Not after you confessed you killed someone innocent- and you kept it from them."**

**"It was an acc-..!"** I started defending myself, but she cut me off.

**"You're fucking Ness Dorian, of course it was an accident. But they are hunters, they don't care, and you know it. They don't trust you anymore."** She repeated.  **"So what I'm offering is simple. You can walk away. No monster under my command will ever bother you again. But, you need to leave them here."**

I shook my head, horrified by the idea.

**"No, no way. I'm not leaving them."**

My cousin rolled her eyes, annoyed.

**"Oh my God, seriously!?"** She complained, laughing.  **"Make this easy for me. I'm not asking for anything you haven't done before. Walk away and don't look back, isn't that what you always do?"**

**"Yes."** I said, robotically. She frowned, confused. I felt something cold inside me, refreshing every corner of my body.  **"Not anymore."** The cold turned into a power I had never felt before and I destroyed the chains with no effort. Just when I saw her in the floor I noticed that I had made a wave of energy.  _ What the hell was happening to me? _ The power moved through my body, practically forcing me to keep moving.

Mia was as stunned as I was. The blast had thrown her against a wall, from where she watched me, jaw dropped.

She stared into my eyes, and the color left her face. She recomposed herself and let out a bitter, cynical laugh.

**"Of-** **_fucking_ ** **-course!"** She laughed.  **"If someone could pull this off, it just** **_had_ ** **to be you!"**

I pinned her quickly against the wall, before she could try to attack. I showed my claws with clear intentions.

**"Please, don't make me do this."**

**"Aw, you want me to beg? No. Sorry, not gonna happen."**

I closed my eyes, hurt. And afraid. I can't escape this.

**"I'm sorry,"** I whispered as my claws digged deep into her chest.  **"I truly am.** "

**"I'm the third family member you murder, hon."** She mumbled, coughing blood.  **"Sorry don’t cut it."**

I backed off, shocked. Her body falls to the floor.  _ Oh, God. What have I done? _

**"Have fun, bitch."** She groaned, seconds before her heartbeat stopped.

_ What have I done? _

An old known feeling starts to take over me and I suddenly find myself in the verge of a panic attack. I haven't had one in years.  _ What have I done? _

I turned towards the brothers, and I choose to fight it back. I can fight it back.

I run to them, kneeling besides their damaged bodies and ungagging them.

**"Are you okay?"** I ask.

_ What have I done? _

They're both scared, because we're not out of here yet. Dean nods, his eyes wide. We both turn out heads to his little brother, who watches me heartbroken.

**"Ness, I-"**

**"Are you okay?"** I repeat.

**"Yes. Are you?"** He insisted.

**"Not important."** I mumbled, untying his arms first. When his hands are freed, I turn to Dean and Sam continues with his own legs.

**"Ness."** He called. I didn't answer.  **"Ness!"**

**"Not now!"** I yelled back. He froze for a second and I sighed, closing my eyes in regret.  **"I'm... I'm sorry. Later, not now. I gotta get you guys outta here."**

I standed up, breathing deeply. Dean observed the corpse behind me and remained silent.

**"I have a plan. Just... follow my lead, and don't say anything. And if I tell you to run, run."**

**"That sounds like a terrible plan."** Pointed Sam out with concern.

Dean nodded, agreeing with him.

**"Yeah, probably. But it's the only shot we have."**

I got up and they did the same. The brothers followed me through the only door and waited, like I asked, when the guards who waited outside stood up and tried to block our way, standing in attack position.

Before anyone could say anything, I raised my eyebrows without even a blink, challenging.

**"That's how you treat the new alpha?"** The guards traded looks, cautious. I hadn't convinced them.

**"Where's Mia?"** Asked the tallest one.

**"Take a guess."** I replied, fighting the fear in my heart.  **"Come on, how else would I be standing here?"**

Still suspicious, they put down their fists.

**"Good. Now get out of my way. I'm sick of this place."**

I started walking with the Winchesters right behind me. 

**"Wait!"** Called one of them. I stopped and half-turned my head back.  **"What now?"**

**"Take this entire operation down. Go back to your old life or start a new one, I don't really care. And, if someone,** **_anyone_ ** **, tries to continue with this,"** I made a pause to look at them in the eyes, threatening,  **"I will find them, and I will kill them. Are we clear?"**

**"Yes, ma'am."**

We walked out of the building calm and firmly, and unbelievably enough, no one else tried to stop us. 

The first tears came up only when I was sitting in the backseat of the Impala, many miles away from the abandoned factory.

.

.

.

I woke up in the bunker. I didn't remember falling asleep. The events of the last night came to me in quick waves, making my eyes soak in tears that didn't fall- just stayed there, blurring my vision. 

It took me several minutes to calm myself down.

I was free from Mia. She was never going to hurt me, or anyone, again. There were only two options, two ways it could have happened, and both of them were horrible.

_ "Of-fucking-course! If someone could pull this off, it just had to be you!" _

She saw me, she saw what happened to me. But maybe it wasn't what I thought. Maybe..?  _ God, why lie to yourself like that? _ I asked myself. There's no third option. For fuck's sake, there isn't even a second. 

I knew what had happened. But I didn't wanted to believe it. A part of me still held on to hope.

Sam walked into the room and smiled in relief when he saw me awake.

**"Hey, baby. Are you okay?"** He asked, with a concerned tone.

**"Yeah, I'm fine. I don't even remember falling asleep, I'm sorry you had to carry me."** I smiled, trying to reassure it, but my own expression froze when I saw his.

**"What are you talking about?"** Asked Sam, right when his brother joined us. 

Just then I noticed how tired they both looked. Yes, maybe it was our little expedition from yesterday, but their wrists -last night completly bruised- were now healed; And yes, maybe it was nothing, but I don't think Cas was responsible for healing that.

**"Now what?”** Asked Dean when he saw our faces.

Sam ignored him, and just insisted;  **"You really don't remember anything else?"**

**“What are you talking about?”** The brothers traded a look and I couldn’t help but to bite my lip.  **“Sam, you’re worrying me.”**

**“You fell asleep in the car,”** started Dean, since his brother wasn’t talking.  **“In the middle of your dream, you started talking, and kicked my seat, making us crash.”** Involuntarily, I covered my mouth with my hands, horrified.  **“Cas took us out and healed us-... Us, at least.”**

**“He said that he couldn’t do anything for you anymore and disappeared,”** interrupted Sam.  **“Ness, what was he talking about?”**

**“I don’t know,”** I lied,  **“How long did I sleep?”**

**“Four days. But you healed in two.”** _Wow. Just two? That was fast,_ I thought. **“The last time we saw you like that, it took you a whole week.”** Inquired Dean. 

Without even having to concentrate, I could hear their heartbeats, getting faster by the minute.

**“Not to mention our escape, by the way. How did you do that?”**

**“Dean...”** Tried to mediate Sam, noticing the blood leaving my face.

Ignoring them, I got up and raced towards the bathroom. When Sam catched up with me I was already in front of the mirror. And, for God’s sake, I couldn’t bring myself to check the color of my eyes.

**“Ness! What is it?”**

I held on to the sink like my life depended on it -I wasn’t sure it didn’t- and, reuniting all my courage, I changed my eyes.

**“Oh, God.”**

I backed off, crashing into Sam’s chest. The touch unsettled me, but I couldn’t walk away. All I could do was drop to the floor, shaking in horror. Sammy was yelling something, but my head was vibrating and I couldn’t get a word of it. There was also another sound, that I later realized was my own voice, repeating  **“No, no, no.”** The ground was spinning- I felt like throwing up. 

I wanted to disappear, but all I could do was crawl under the sink. Sam joined me, as best as he could considering his size, and pulled me between his arms. I felt my body shaking violently against his. Dean watched me, frowning, and shifting between worry and pity.

I took a deep breath, uselessly. Sam had seen them too, so there was no use trying to hide it.

_ Blue. _

My eyes, my beautiful orange eyes, had glowed with a new, cold, steel blue. 

**“Babe? Ness?”**

My eyes met his- and everything went black.

.

.

.

**“Her eyes are** **_blue_ ** **, Sam!”**

I blinked slowly, adapting to the light. I couldn’t move. Too tired. 

**“We don’t know what that means!”**

_ Sammy _ . Oh, no. I started taking deep breaths now, before it escalated and my breathing got out of control again.

**“Trouble, Sam! It means trouble!”**

Dean. His voice was coming from outside the room. He was furious. 

**“Why?”** Sam was defending me.  **“Why does it always have to be bad?”**

**“Well, maybe because she fucking passed out when she saw it!”**

Blue. My eyes were glowing blue.

**“Maybe she doesn’t knows what it means either.”**

**“Goddamnit, Sam, I-”** Dean entered the room, accompanied by his brother, and froze when he saw me awake.

**“Ness,”** breathed out Sam, surprised.  **“You’re up. Are you okay?”**

**“I know,”** I confessed, as I sat up in the bed.  **“I know what happened to me. I knew from the very beginning.”**

The Winchester traded looks, not sharing the same feelings: Sam was scared, and Dean was pissed.

**“Care to share with the class?”**

I swallowed hard.

**“I’m an omega.”**

**“What the hell does that mean?”** Insisted Dean.

I hugged my knees. Sam sat on the bed and tried to comfort me, but I avoided his touch.

**“It means I’ve abandoned my pack.”** I started explaining, slowly.  **“It means I’m on my own now.”** My eyes started to get crystalized, and I closed them for a few seconds. There’s more to being an omega than that.  **“It means that I’ll get weaker and weaker until I’m too ill to recover and then... I will die.”**

**“Yeah, sure.”**

**“I mean it.”**

Sam’s face whitened. He asked for permission to touch me with his eyes and when I nodded, he pulled me into a tight grip. I saw Dean frowning, not angry, but upset. And then, Sammy started crying. My soul broke to pieces and fell down to my feet.  **“I’m so sorry,”** I cried.

**“Fuck it. That’s bullshit,”** stated Dean, angrily.  **“There has to be a way-...”**

**“Dean,”** I tried, holding Sam with all my strengths.

**“No, Ness, listen. There has to be a way. There always is.”**

I sighted, resigned. I knew better than to try to argue with him when he puts his mind into something.

**“Alright. I’ll call my dad. He might know something.”**

**“See? We’ll cure you. Don’t worry.”** Promised Dean. Sam put some space between us to see my face. I forced a smile, trying to reassure the hope being born inside him.  **“I’ll go get your phone.”**

When Dean got out of the room, Sam spoke.

**“Ness, be honest with me.”** In his eyes, I could see the fear. And fuck- He was terrified.  **“Do you think we can actually save you?”**

_ I promised him I would always be there for him. _

**“I don’t know.”** I confessed.  **“I’m an alpha, Sam. Whether I accepted the place or not, it’s in my blood. Maybe I can make it. But, I won’t lie to you...”** I sighed.  **“No one’s ever done this in a long time. I mean, the last one being eighty years ago. They** **_killed_ ** **traitors back then.”**

**“Why’d you do it?”**

The question caught me unprepared. _“Why?”_ _To protect you_.

**“It’s not-... It wasn’t conscious. I don’t know how it works.”** I started feeling off again. My chest ached, like there was something inside me burning everything down. **“I’m so sorry, Sam. I really am. I promised I’d be careful, and now I’ve-”** I couldn’t go on. Tears fell down my cheeks too fast for him to catch.  _ How could I do this to him? _

He hugged me again, and I calmed down in a few seconds. 

**“We’ll make it through this, Ness-... I promise.”**

Dean came back with my cellphone in his hands before I could answer.

**“It’s been ringing once or twice a day since we escaped,”** explained Dean, when I noticed it was still on,  **“So we kept it charged for when you waked up.”**

I nodded thankfully and dialed. Nine missed calls from ‘Home’.

**“I hope he’s not mad...”** I whispered to myself when it started to ring.

**“Vanessa?”**

**“Dad. Hello.”**

**“Are you alright? What happened to you?”**

**“I’m fine. Listen, Mia-...”**

**“Is dead, I know. Ness...”**

**“I’m so sorry, I didn’t...”**

**“I know. I understand. She was out of control. You did good.”**

Oh.  **“Oh.”** I didn’t know what to say. I killed his niece and he congratulated me.

**“But, Ness, The wave we felt-...”**

**“You felt that?”**

**“We all did. What-... Vanessa, was it what I think it was?”**

**“Yes, it was... I need your help.”**

.

.

.

  
  



	14. little sister

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> more of the girl from last chapter!!

It was suddenly night when I woke up. The water fell from the sky like the angels were trying to drown Hell. That noise has always been a weakness of mine, so I fell asleep on the couch, cuddling with Sammy.

I was stretching in the couch when someone banged the door with vigour.

Sam looked at me worried, and then his eyes met Dean's, who had raced towards the war room from the library as soon as he heard it.

"Maybe someone broke their car?" I suggested, trying to calm the growing tension.  _ We are on the bunker _ , I remembered myself,  _ we are safe. _ "There's no other civilization near us. I could be that." I insisted, after receiving a disapproving look from Dean.

"Well, what do your super-wolfy senses tell you?" He asked, annoyed.

I turn all my attention in my hearing. There's no point in trying to catch a scent, with all the rain it's almost impossible.

"A person. A small one, probably freezing and soaking wet." I stated, based on their heartbeat. "Can you open now?"

Sam stood up and went to get his gun, when his brother, defeated, started walking to the door.

I wanted to follow him, but then I noticed I was barefoot. While I put on my shoes I heard Dean's footsteps climbing the stairs, and cautiously open the door. When it was open, the smell of rain flooded the air, along with another scent. A scent I recognized instantly.

I got up, without saying a word. Sam looked at me, dubious. "Where's Vanessa?", I heard the person say. I ran up the stairs, passing Dean, ending face to face to the girl standing under the rain.

Avery.

"Do you know her?" Asked Dean, but I didn't need to answer, because as soon as she recognized me, she threw herself inside the bunker, at my arms. I hugged her back, cautiously. She seemed hurt. There was blood on her clothes, and bruises in her arms and face. I had too many questions blurring my mind, but I couldn't bring myself to break free from her shaky and weak grip. Sadly, I didn't had to, because a strong smell made me jump back. I started coughing, strongly, struggling to get air into my lungs.

Wolfsbane.

She understood and took a step back, resting her damaged body on the wall, giving me space. She was breathing hardly too, but not even half as bad as me. The damn thing let me dizzy and aching, and the first thing I could think was  _ "How the hell is she being affected so little?" _ .

Dean, even more confused than before, pushed us inside and closed the door. When I managed to breathe normally again, I asked, more like an order: "Where?"

She lifted her wet shirt, revealing a big and deep cut in the right side of her lower back.

"Goddamnit!" I hissed, starting to worry. Sam joined us in the small balcony, and put his hand on my shoulder, supporting me. "I need your help," I asked both brothers. They nodded, leaving the questions for later. "Take her to my room and patch her up for me. I can't get too close."

Dean lifted her in bridal style while she fought to keep her eyes open.

"Are you alright? What was that?" Asked Sam, making me lean on him. I started following his brother grabbing tightly his arm.

"Wolfsbane. A plant-- terribly poisonous for us. Just the smell is enough to knock me out...  _ Shit _ . This is bad." I responded, trying to stay as close to her as I could.

"Okay, great. But why is she covered in it?"

"I have no idea."

And it was true. There was, anyways, another question with no answer that bothered me even more. How did she managed to find me in her state? How was she even  _ alive _ ?

Dean left her slowly in my bed. When her wound touched the soft surface, she groaned, her eyes turning yellow for a second. Just long enough for both Winchesters to see it.

Dean jumped back, defensive. He looked briefly at me, angry, demanding an explanation, but he softened his expression when he saw mine. I was in the verge of tears.

"She's a werewolf too, but it's okay. I promise I'll explain but not now. Can you help me?" I begged.

He nodded.

Avery turned around, laying on her good side and leaving the cut in a more accessible place.

"What do we do?" Asked Sam, now unsure about his movements, since he wasn't an expert in healing monsters, and seeing that I couldn't get any closer to the wounded girl even if I tried, so my help was out of the table.

"Clean the wound. I'll prepare an antidote for the Wolfsbane, and then you just have to put it in the cut and it should be done." I mumbled, searching between my stuff.

"I'll get the first aids, you stay with her." Ordered Dean to Sam, leaving the room. He kneeled besides Avery and smiled. She tried to return the gesture, but it looked rather creepy.

"I'm Sam." He said. Not the best time for introductions, but he was just trying to keep her awake. She had lost too much blood.

"Avery."

In that moment Dean raced inside the room and took Sam's place besides her.

It had been so long since I had needed it that I couldn't remember where it was. That, and the fact that I slept in Sam’s room more than I did in my own, didn't help my shaking hands to find the damn herbs.

"This is going to hurt like shit, alright?" I heard Dean say. I was so grateful with them, that I didn't know if I could ever return the favor properly. 

"Arghh- Fuck. Shit." She whined. Dean stopped what he was doing -I noticed, based on the smell, that he was disinfecting the cut- and waited for her to give him permission to continue. She took a deep breath before talking. "Go on, I'll be fine." 

Sam, feeling useless, came to my side, trying to help. I had almost everything reunited in the desk. The poisonous scent from the Wolfsbane was being replaced with the smell of alcohol and I could focus my sight again.

"What do I do?"

"Take these to the kitchen, and get water boiling. Do we have white pepper?" He nodded, focused. "Great. We'll need it." He grabbed everything he could fit in his arms and raced off the room.

My eyes met Avery's and she gave me a pain filled smile.

"Hold on," I mouthed quietly. "It's going to be okay."

She just closed her eyes, trying to hold the cries inside her throat.

Dean turned around to see me, concerned look on his face.

"It's gonna need stitches." I saw my sister's face whitening. "What do I..?" He started, but I interrupted him.

"How long 'til you are ready to start with them?" I asked, unconsciously shifting my gaze between him and the door.

"I'll be done in a minute, but I can keep it ready for another two minutes, after that she'll pass out." 

I knew she was terrified enough, so leaving her alone was absolutely not an option. But making her wait... I had to make a choice.

"I'll be back, wait for me."

I hugged firmly the ingredients as I started running to the kitchen. I relaxed a bit when I heard the water boiling already, which meant that I could start right away.

Sam looked at me and smiled, comforting me, and then he handed over the pepper.

I grabbed a bowl and put all the herbs inside. Then I added the water. I ran it through a filter and threw away the rest. I mixed it with the white pepper and all the other dry ingredients until a dough started to form.

I couldn't help but to wonder if I wasn't missing any ingredient- a terrible mistake I had made when I was younger. But I didn't had time for self doubt. 

Sam and I ran back to my room, where Dean waited.

"Thank God you're back, Ness. Change of plans, I need to stitch  _ now. _ " Dean informed, visibly tense. I checked the wound myself, from a prudential distance, and I noticed something that emptied my lungs from air. Dean, who was still looking at me, turned to see her when he noticed my expression and almost choked when he saw the effects of Wolfsbane. Her cut was getting infected, fast, in a purple glow. The veins around it were visible, and they were changing slowly to a much darker color. "What the hell is that!?" Shouted Dean, honestly freaking out.

"It's our time running out!" I responded, handing over the antidote. "Put a thin layer over the wound and start stitching." Avery gripped the pillow like her like her life depended on it. She wasn't scared, she was fucking terrified. How could she not be? If I remember correctly, this is the first time she gets stitches. In pain, in an unknown place, with unknown people.

I filled my lungs with fresh air, and held it there. Making an effort not to breathe, I got to her side, and I grabbed her hand. I couldn't talk, and the remaining Wolfsbane was making my eyes tear up, but I smiled and she understood. Everything is going to be alright.

The entire experience was painful for everyone, because Avery was suffering- a reminder that not everyone can take as much pain as hunters do- and it killed me to see her like that. Dean felt terrible every time she flinched and to Sam, feeling useless like he did, was the worst sensation in the world.

The antidote made effect right away and even though her wound took time to heal, the air was breathable again and her heartbeat had stabilized. 

Moments before Dean could finish the suture, she passed out. 

I let a small cry of distress out of my mouth. It was over. She was okay. Sam helped me on my feet and hugged me strongly.

"It's okay now. She'll get better soon." He said.

"Ness," called Dean, "Who's she?"

He received a look from his brother with a  _ "Shut up, you insensitive shit" _ implied on it when I broke free from his hold and kneeled besides her bed, and even when Dean got the message and muttered something like  _ 'Nevermind' _ , I answered anyways.

"She's my little sister."

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was about 4:25 am when she woke up. Me, on the other hand, hadn't closed my eyes ever since she passed out.

I had been calling home non stop all night long with no answer. Many questions blurred my mind, for example: How the hell did my little and inexperienced sister found me, in the middle of a storm, alone, after being stabbed with a poisoned who-knows-what?

"Vanessa..." I jumped out of my chair. She tried to sit up but I held her in place. 

"Don't move. You're still weak. Breathe deeply and try to remember what happened."

I sat by her side on the bed and waited, impatient. "Where are we?"

"You don't know?" I asked, calmly.

"I mean, I remember following your track. I remember entering here and being received by-"

"Dean." I completed.

"Yeah, him. I remember the antidote and the stitches. And that's it." 

"No, Ave," I corrected, "what I mean is... Do you remember what happened? To you, before you found me?"

Her face darkened suddenly.

"We... We got attacked. Two hunters, dad knew them. We got split up in our way to the meeting spot. I only could think of you, and I ended up there."

That was a lot to process. Hunters, meeting spot- Oh, no.

"Okay, first things first. Where were you supposed to met?"

"I'm not sure. Dad-"

"Oh, she's awake?" Interrupted the brothers, joining us.

"Sam, Dean.. This is my sister, Avery." Sam smiled and waved his hand, and Dean limited to nod with his head.

"Hey, uh... Sorry for showing up outta nowhere. I'm very grateful for your help." Her gaze met mine, and she continued, "You saved my life."

"My pleasure." Responded the oldest. She smiled and remained silent. I wanted her to feel comfortable, but that was not my priority. I had too many questions.

"Ave?" I insisted, "Where did dad tell you to go?"

"I don't know. He used a code, I don't remember what it means."

"I'll go get some coffee for everyone." Excused himself Dean, leaving us alone.

"What did he say, exactly?" I asked, continuing our conversation.

"We'll meet at sunset, I think. Why? Does it mean something to you?"

"Yeah, it does." I said, feeling a little more relieved. "I know where they are. About thirty miles from here." I said, standing up from the bed. "I'm going to call them, let them know you're okay, alright? Wait here, I'll be back."

She nodded. I raced out of the room as I went directly to the library where I kept my journal. If the phone number of that cabin was somewhere, it was there. Without even opening it, I went back to my bedroom, where my sister and my boyfriend talked.

My curiosity must have been obvious, because he soon started to explain himself. "She was explaining me how does the Wolfsbane works, just in case." 

"Alright," I said, handing her over my cell phone. "I'll tell you a phone number, you dial and call, okay? In speaker." She nodded. After typing the number I gave her, she called and put the speaker, just like I asked. After one ring, someone picked up.

"Yes?"

"Mom!" We said in unison. 

"Avery? Is that your sister? Are you alright?" She asked, with a worried tone on her voice. She sounded tired.

"Yes, it's her. I'm fine, are you all okay?" 

"Thank goodness..." She breathed, relaxing. "We were so worried. We all made it to the safe house except you, your father-"

"Is he okay?"

Dean walked in, carrying two cups of coffee in every hand. When he saw the phone, he decided to hand them over quietly.

"Yeah, he got shot, but nothing serious. He started healing already. He's been through worse. But you!"

"What?" She asked, truly confused.

"I saw that bitch stabbing you! I wanted to come back for you but with your baby sister in my arms-"

"Who?" I interrupted, "Who were them?"

"The Argents," She said after a long pause. I opened my eyes wide, not giving credit to what I was hearing.

"I thought we were on a truce!" I groaned, feeling the anger growing inside me.

"We are!" She corrected me, "We are. Chris Argent wasn't there. Just his psycho sister and another men I didn't know."

"Fuck. I thought that-" I stopped myself to breathe deeply. I put myself together and continued. "Isn't the McCall pack supposed to deal with her?"

"Yes, they are, but the last thing I heard was that she had died, so I don't think they know she's alive."

"Oh come on!" I said. "Can't anyone in that town just stay dead?" I asked Avery. She chuckled in response.

"But you haven't told me how did you find your sister." Insisted my mother.

"I'm not sure. I panicked and I just... knew where she was."

"Well that's new." I muttered, starting to get frustrated.

"Alright, but what about the wound? I thought I smelled Wolfsbane, are you okay?"

I took a sip from my coffee. It was hot and I burned my tongue, but I was starting to feel tired and I needed the caffeine.

"The knife was poisoned, yes, but Ness made the antidote for me. I'm fine."

"Yeah, don't worry." I added, "It might take her the rest of the day to heal and then we'll drive her there, alright?"

"We?" She asked. Oh shit.

"Uh... Yeah, we. Me and my friends. They helped me heal Avery."

"Oh! You didn't told me you had teamed up with other werewolves. Do I know them?"

I bite my lip hard, shifting my gaze between everyone in the room.

"No, they're not werewolves." I stopped, trying to think what to say next, but she filled in the silence instantly.

"What are they then? Shapeshifters?"

"...They are not monsters." 

Avery watched me, nervous. She knew the rules as well as I did. Number one: Don't trust hunters. All the others were similar. Avoid hunters, don't work with hunters, don't become friends with hunters... And right now I'm breaking all of them.

"They're humans?" She asked, with disbelief in her voice.

"They are hunters."

Silence. 

"They saved my life!" Said Avery, trying to help me.

"...Hunters?" She repeated, in what I understood as shock.

"Ave was hurt, really hurt. She needed stitches and I couldn't even get close to her because of the Wolfsbane. If they weren't there..." I stopped myself. I didn't wanted to think about it.

"Oh, Vanessa..." She sighed. She used my entire name. That was bad. "Jesus, kid. You're gonna kill your father. If he doesn't kill you first. Just... Don't mention they are hunters when you bring them here, alright? I'll be expecting you tomorrow morning. Call if anything happens, alright?"

"Of course. I love you."

"Love you!" Said Avery.

"I love you girls too." Answered mom, before hanging up.

After a second of complete silence, my sister spoke.

"That was a complete disaster. You know it, right?"

"I'm going to agree with your sister in that." Commented Dean.

I groaned loudly, and, without saying a word, I got up and walked out of the room. Sam came after me.

I got to his room and I threw myself in the bed.

"Nessie, are you okay?"

"No," I mumbled, with my face against his pillow. "I'm tired, and stressed, and angry with that Argent bitch and the stupid McCall who was supposed to keep her under control. I'm worried sick about my family. I don't want you guys to kill each other when you met."

"It's your family, we're not gonna hurt them." Promised Sam.

"You're my family too. Both of you." I corrected him. "I don't want my father to hurt you, neither physically or emotionally."

He sat besides me and put his hand in my back, making circular movements. "It's gonna be okay, you'll see. We won't say anything about hunting. I'm just your boyfriend and he's my br-"

"No!" I exclaimed, raising my head. He retired his hand from me, and I sat up, alert. "Shit, sorry. You can't tell him. Believe me, it's for your own good."

"Hey, it's fine," he said, trying to hide the pain he felt, "If you don't want him to know you're dating me, we-"

"No, no no no," I interrupted. I sat correctly besides him and caressed his arm. "Don't you ever think that. I'm proud to be your girlfriend, I really am. But if you tell him we're together, he'll start talking about marriage."

"And that's so bad?" He asked, hurt. No no no no, shit. That's not what I meant. "Is it so terrible to think about marrying me?" He tried to joke.

"Fuck." I groaned. He was getting everything upside down. Or I was terrible explaining myself. "That's not it!" I promised, "The problem is not you, okay? I swear, you're one of the best things to ever happen to me." He nodded, looking slightly better.

"Then, why?"

"Because to my father, marriage means children, and for that he..." I took a deep breath. "He'll want to turn you."

"What!?" He asked, horrified, as he standed up. I mimicked his movement, suddenly aware of the fact that this might scare him off.

"You see the problem? I'll have to tell him someday, but I can't have that talk right now."

"But, I don't understand. Why..?"

"It's a blood thing. When you marry someone, they have to get bitten by the alpha, so the children will be purebloods too. It's fucking insane, I know, and I won't let him touch you, I promise. But I'm not ready to do this so soon."

"God, Ness... It's fine, I understand. I'm sorry I got all emotional about it, I didn't know."

I put my arms around his waist, carefully.

"At least I know you care. When my mom told me she was bitten, I couldn't understand it. She loved my father, and when he asked her, she said she couldn't refuse. It all feels so weird to me, knowing she was human once... I couldn't ask you, or anyone, to do that for me."

"Nessie, it's okay, really. We won't say anything, we don't have to."

"Thank you." I whispered as I rested my head in his chest, relieved.

"No problem."

"Sorry to interrupt," said Dean, standing in the door, causing us to split. "But Avery needs you."

I nodded and started walking towards my room with steady steps.

When I arrived, I found her halfway out the bed.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

The blonde looked up to me, her chestnut eyes meeting mine in confusion.

"I need to eat, I-..."

"You're going to get back in bed immediately," I interrupted, "and I'm going to make you a sandwich, okay?"

"Ness, I'm hungry."

I understood instantly. I nodded as I walked back to the kitchen, where I kept the frozen hearts for an emergency. I took the dark plastic bag from the back of the fridge, and I grabbed a plate, a fork, a knife and paper tissues, just in case.

I ran into the brothers when I stepped out of the kitchen, but neither of them said anything.

I gave Avery the food and I headed back to Sam's room, where I let myself (finally) fall asleep. The clock marked 05:12 in the morning.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------

  
  
  



	15. first class

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW!!!! racism is alive and well in this chapter

“Bueno, te dejo, que tengo que acomodar mis cosas en el asiento,” I said. On the other side of the phone, my sister hummed.

“Dale... ¿Me mandás un mensaje cuando aterricen?” I found the seat easily, and smiled to the woman sitting right besides me. She just stared at me, alarmed, but I didn't even notice.

“Obvio.” After sitting down, I placed my backpack on my lap, still holding my phone to my ear. I was about to say goodbye, when I suddenly remembered something. “Oh! No, pará, antes que me olvide... ¿Te dijo algo papá sobre el apartamento?”

“Sí, me olvidé de decirte, dice que-” She continued talking, but I couldn't hear anything. All my senses were focused on something else.

“Te llamo después,” I muttered, cutting her off before hanging up. I turned to the woman sitting besides me, and frowning, I asked, “What did you just say?”

“I said,  _ 'speak English’ _ . You are in America,” She repeated, narrowing her eyes in disgust.

A known feeling of rage mixed with fear started in my stomach, but I held it down. Keeping my expression as cold as I could, I replied simply: “No.”

She looked taken aback for a moment, but then she started shouting, grabbing everyone's attention. “ _Excuse me?_ How dare you treat me like that!? I'm just doing my duty as an American, keeping _you_ _Mexicans_ in line!”

Knowing this was going to keep escalating, I grabbed my backpack and stood up, trying to get away from her. 

I saw a few people recording the scene with their phones, discreetly, and took a deep breath. 

“Ma'am, I can speak-” 

“If you come to our country and take the jobs from us the least you have to do is speak English!” She interrupted, standing up too. “Who do you think you are, coming here-...”

“You can't say that kind of stuff!”

“Oh, I can't?” She mocked, “If it upsets you so much you can always go back to Mexico, you illegal alien!”

The screaming had gotten the attention of a couple of flight attendants, and when the woman saw them, she ignored me and directed her attention to them.

“Aren't you going to do something!? She can't-!”

“Ma'am,” interrupted coldly one of them, who looked slightly older than the other, “you can't speak to other passengers like that. If you can't control yourself I'm going to have you escorted off the flight.”

“What!? Is  _ this _ how you treat your customers? I want to speak to the captain, you can't-”

“The captain is already aware of the situation, ma'am, there are cameras in this plane,” smiled her, almost mockingly, “and he wants you to know that this behavior is not tolerated.” She turned to me, and I could see that her name tag said 'Ella’. “So if you could get your things, we would like to move you to first class.”

My eyes shot open. Some of the passengers started clapping and cheering, and I felt my cheeks getting red.

“What!?” Screamed the woman, pointing at me with her finger. “ _ She _ gets moved to first class? I bet she doesn't even has papers!” Bitch,  _ the fuck. _ “What if I called the police on you, uh?” She asked me, and I did an effort not to make eye contact. “You'd get deported!”

Ella put her hand on my shoulder and led me gently towards a door on the back, shielding me from the woman's finger.

“Go back to your country, you stupid c**t!”

“Call security,” Ella ordered to the other attendant, and the girl nodded energetically in response.

I only turned to see the woman once I was almost out of there, and she was being practically dragged out by a uniformed man.

...

“We are deeply sorry for the inconveniences, miss,” said Ella once I was settled again, this time in first class. 

There were a lot of people in this part of the plane, way more than I expected. However, I was the only one in my row.  _ Gracias a Dios. _

“The company has a policy for these kind of incidents.” She handed me a sheet of paper -I had seen her take it from her cart when we went through the bathrooms, but I hadn't thought much of it- filled with all the possible ways this could go. “Once we touch ground on Vancouver, you can communicate H.R. your decision and they'll handle the rest.”

My eyes travelled through the text quickly.  _ I was entitled to a compensation as long as I didn't press charges against the company, and if I were to sue the aggressor.. _ . I stopped reading.

“Thank you,” I smiled, handing back the paper, “but it's fine. I don't want any of this.”

She frowned a little, confused, but it only lasted a split second before she was smiling again. 

“Even if you don't want to take any actions, you will be given special discount on...”

“Really, it's fine,” I insisted, smiling sadly, “I just want to forget about it.”

She nodded slowly, and took the paper. “I understand. Enjoy your flight.”

“You too.”

Sighing, she walked away. I took out my phone, and found a couple texts from Valentina.

**Y/N????**

**Estás bien??**

I typed an answer, carefully choosing the words that'd make her worry the least.

**Yep no te preocupes**

**Tuve un problema con una pasajera, me movieron a primera clase**

The answer did not took long.

**QUÉ**

**Qué pasó??**

I was not going to type everything, but I couldn't record an audio message, so instead I sent,  **The cuento después**

Ah, goddamnit.

**Te****

She didn't reply, so I put the phone on airplane mode and started looking for my earphones.

“Wow, looks like the flight is packed, uh?”

I looked up, my hand still inside my backpack, and I saw two guys taking a seat besides me. 

My attention went directly to the one with longer hair- For  _ absolutely no reason at all. _ His features were defined, but softened by a beard, and his eyes were gentle and bright.

“Uh, you’re in my seat,” said the other one, checking his ticket.

I felt my face get red.

“Oh! I'm sorry, let me just-”

“Wait, no, it's fine, we'll switch,” he said, and then proceeded to put his suitcase on the-...  _ Whatever that thing's called. _ “Business or pleasure?”

“Business,” I replied, “More like both, maybe- I'm moving temporarily.”

The long haired guy sat besides me as his friend put his suitcase with his own. He nodded along at my answer and smiled.

“Yeah, same here.”

“Really?” I allowed a smile into my face, and he returned it, as his friend sat on the remaining free seat.

“Yeah, for the next nine months at least.”

“Wait, for real?” I frowned, before smiling again. “Me too!” 

They both shared a look of surprise, before bursting out laughing. What were the chances? 

“I'm Jared, and this is Jensen,” introduced long-haired guy just as the younger flight attendant from earlier walked in to ask everyone to buckle their seatbelts.

“I'm Y/N,” I replied.

...

.....

...

I blinked slowly, only waking up completely when I felt a finger tapping on my arm.

I took my earphones off and turned to meet Jared's eyes, who limited himself to point to my phone with his other hand.

“Oh, thanks,” I smiled to him, before accepting the incoming video chat from my sister. “Hola, ¿Qué pasó?”

“No sé, decime vos qué pasó,” she replied, aggressive, “me cortaste el teléfono y después no me contaste nada.”

“¿Para eso me llamás?” I asked, surprise present in my tone, “Te dije que después te contaba, eso significa que  _ yo _ elijo cuándo contarte-”

“¡Pero..!”

“-Y ahora no me pinta contarte un carajo. Te llamo cuando aterrice.”

“Bue, andá a cagar entonces, ahora por pelotuda del orto no te aviso nada,” she threatened, and me, seeing her getting angry, decided to push her buttons.

“Opa, ¿con esa boquita decís mamá?”

She rolled her eyes, annoyed.

“Chupame la pi-”

I laughed at her victorious, and she almost hung up, but stopped her hand midair.

“Te cuento lo que me dijo papá y vos después arreglás con él,” she announced, making an effort to keep her face neutral, “los inquilinos de la casa necesitan al menos una semana más para salir del apartamento, así que vas a tener que ir a un hotel o algo.”

“Pará, ¿qué? ¿Porqué?”

“Preguntale a él, yo te repito lo que él me dijo nomás. Beso.”

“La puta madre,” I sighed, rubbing my hand over my eyes, “bueno, beso. Te llamo cuando llegue.”

“Más te vale.”

She ended the call as soon as she said that, and I turned off my phone's screen right after.

“Crap,” I muttered.

“Everything okay?” Asked Jared, which reminded me suddenly of his presence. 

“ _ Sí _ , uh, I mean, yeah- I mean, not really but...” 

Jared started to grin, and failed miserably at trying to hide it.

“Sorry, I shouldn't laugh.”

I rolled my eyes half-heartedly, and smiled back.

“Just a little set back, that's all,” I explained, and he nodded- Not pushing further, but giving me the chance to continue if I wanted to. There was something about his raised eyebrows and his genuinely interested expression, though, that made me want to keeping talking. “Nothing a call won't fix.”

“It's cool, then?”

“Yeah,” I smiled, “I'll handle it right now.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


“Good morning, everyone. My name's (Y/N) Rubio and I'm your new head of Marketing and Publicity,”

“I’d like to think that since we're all adults here I won't have to be chasing after any of you to be kept informed on what's happening in your lives- Your  _ public _ lives, that's it. If what you do in private  _ stays private, _ then I don't have any business in it. However, I was hired with a purpose, which is to make sure you win that award, and if you do something that could get in the way of that, I need you to tell me. 


	16. bbc sherlock nonsense

Brenda closed the textbook in front of her, annoyed. She already knew all of this. And most important, it was useless. She would remember what her teacher was saying, anyways. 

The blonde rested her head in the small desk. Without moving, she pulled out her smartphone under the table and started typing.  _ "I need motivation so I don't stab someone in the left eye" _ .

Send. After about 20 seconds, a reply to her tweet popped up in the notification bar.  _ "Why the left eye? lol" _ . A favorite came right after, from the same user. Then another reply, this time from Allison. Allison was a girl Brenda had met in the psychologist's office.  _ "You can't tweet if you are in prison" _ .

_ Very funny _ , she thought.  _ But I wouldn't get caught. _ The Dr. Sullivan had a funny way to treat teenagers: Like actual people. She understood them really well. Brenda didn't fit with the other teenagers, of course, but she could tell how well informed the doctor was. A nice lady, indeed. But yet, so dumb. So, so  _ dumb _ .

Allison was depressed. She, still, was like most teenagers. And the doctor understood her. Of course, when she suggested you to open an anonymous account on your preferred social media, you would look at her like she was completely insane. That's what Brenda did, anyways. But at the end, it helped. At least, a little bit.

When the screen turned black, she did an effort to look to the front of the room. And right then, somebody knocked the door. 

"Come on in." Two men, very good looking and with serious faces, walked inside the class, followed by the sub principal, Mr. Harrison.

"Can Brenda Sanders come out for a minute?" The man said. She straightened her entire body when she heard her name come out of the men's lips. What did they want with her? "These men need to ask her a few questions."

The entire room started overflowing with whispers. " _ What did she do? _ ". " _ Do you think she killed somebody? _ ". " _ I knew she was insane _ ". She rolled her eyes in a fast movement.  _ Go to hell _ , she thought, as she standed up and grabbed her bag. At least she wasn't bored anymore.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Good morning, Miss Sanders. My name is Sherlock Holmes and this is my colleague, the Dr. John Watson." Started the tall one as soon as I closed the door. "We are here from the Police Department." I couldn't help to notice that he was wearing a trench coat. No way this men a cop. His curly hair, messed up for the wind, fell in his forehead. His skin was like porcelain, and his eyes, scanning me, stopped in my left wrist. My head raced to conclusions. " _ Obviously, not subtle enough to be a cop. Probably bad with people. Is slightly overdressed, maybe indicating a superiority complex. And, well, there's the fact that he's analyzing me too. But what can I know from that?" _

Watson was way shorter than him. Excellent posture, militar like. His expression was warm and welcoming, yet slightly tired. A kind man. Definitely the Jiminy Cricket for this Pinocchio. 

The sub principal didn't seem to notice that he wasn't required anymore, so I stood silently, waiting for him to leave. After a few moments of awkward smiles and nods, he got the message, and walked away.

"We're here for the..."

"I know why you're here" I interrupted. Watson looked at me, confused. He had bought my small act of innocent girl. "Can I see your badges?"

Both men wiped them out and I took them in a fast movement. Both were real, yeah, but both said Officer Lestrade. Policemen my ass.

"What were your names again?" I asked, politely, looking down to the shiny things in my hands. The so called policemen exchanged looks, worried. 

Busted.

.

.

.

Before anyone could say anything else, I rubbed my temples, sighted, and started walking.

"You coming?" I asked. They looked at each other, confused. And then, they started walking right after me. They followed me through the hallways, in silence. No one in the school knew yet, but Amanda Stylinson was dead.

"Who are you, really? And what are you doing here?" I questioned, as soon as we seated in a small table near the emergency exit.

"My name is Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective, and this is my partner, Doctor John Watson. We're here investigating..."

"I  _ know _ what you are investigating." I interrupted. Both men were getting used to my sudden change of personality. Holmes, by the way, was taking it way more relaxed than his friend. "I wanna know why."

"Because we still have a chance to save her."

I looked at Watson, with both a frown and a smile in my face. What? He didn't knew yet? Sherlock noticed it immediately.

"What's the matter?" He asked, upset by the fact that I knew something he didn't.

"Amanda is dead."

"Excuse me?"

They didn't know. I enjoyed the moment for an instant before explaining my words. That feeling wasn't new at all, but this time, I liked it. Normally, it just feels... Boring.

"Her boyfriend did it. Or one of his teammates. Last night."

"What? Sherlock, wh-" Exclaimed John, upset. Mr Holmes shutted him up, with a small gesture.

"How could you possibly know that?" Sherlock insisted.  _ Oh, come on. You are smart, you have to be. Don't let me down now. _

"I live in the house in front of hers. But you already knew that, that's why you came to me. I saw her climbing out of her window, then getting picked up by his boyfriend and some other guys. I didn't recognize any of them, but he's a classist piece of shit, so no way he would hang out with anyone else. "

Sherlock Holmes closed his eyes, thinking. He started muttering something I couldn't understand while tapping his head with his hands.

"What else do you want to know?" I insisted.

"How do you know she's not just missing?" Asked Watson, confused.

I grinned.

"Oh, sweetheart. Believe me, she's dead."

Sherlock opened his eyes, and staring at me, asked his partner, in a calmed tone: "That's how I look when I smile?"

.

.

.

Emotionless. That's how I would describe Sherlock Holmes if anyone were interested in listening. I'm well aware that he's probably a psychopath, but I'm sure he doesn't like that word. 

I can't blame him, neither do I. 

"We need more information, Miss Sanders." Explained Watson. I could see in his eyes the confusion that crowded his mind. Poor man.

"Call me Brenda." I asked. John nodded. I rested my head in my palm before going on, "Most of those jerks are full of repressed rage. Is pure violence waiting to explode. Now," taking a deep breath, I opened my Instagram account and continued to show them Amanda's profile. "Her last post is from three days ago. As you can see, before every party, she posts her outfit. There isn't anything new, so we could assume that she was going to meet really few people, in an event that wasn't meant to go public."

"Your theory is that she was killed by her boyfriend after the party?" indagued Sherlock.

"Yes. Amanda was a tease; The most probable situation is that he wanted sex, and she turned him down. He got mad, plus he was already drunk, he tried to force her, she fought back and  _ oops _ : Houston, we got a situation."

Sherlock seem nearly fascinated, and so did John. Usually, people freak out when I say things like this.

"But... All of that just based on what? A non-existent photo on internet?" interrupted Watson. Ugh.  _ Here we go again _ .

"Listen, gentlemen;" I said, calmly, "You may know a lot about the human in general, but teenagers are nothing like them. Yes, most of the time they're as simple as anyone else, but then, there's the small details, like this one. The tiny things adults don't see; Social Media, Pop Culture, memes, viral challenges and stuff like that... You don't pay attention to that kind of things, because you consider them "stupid trends"; Being unable to see that this stupid trends control the daily life of most teenagers." I accused. Sherlock and Watson heard every one of my words, as fascinated as they were offended by my assumptions. But most importantly, they listened to what I was saying. I would kill for seeing that in all my conversations. "Things you can't possibly know unless you are forced to waste at least 6 hours a day with this retrograd assholes. Believe me, she is dead."

"Well, yeah. But we still don't know who did it." Insisted the doctor.

"Oh- You should have said that before." I said, smiling politely. "You just need to find the body."

"Why?" Asked Holmes.

"There was five people in the car that picked Amanda up. All men, all football players. It's not hard to figure out that they were part of Amanda's usual clique, so you could deduct that those kids were Aaron Simons, Kevin Holligan, Dylan Tran, Eric Truman and Billy Madison.

If you look at the today, you can notice that they all look tired except Mr. Holligan, who probably left early because of his strict parents, who also force him to wear a belt all the time. That leaves only four. 

Mr. Truman seems really anxious today, but I believe that's because he's afraid that someone might have seen him with Mr. Madison last night in the park, where I believe they either hid a body or had sex... together."

"Explain" ordered Watson, with his jaw slightly dropped.

"Mr. Madison's family is been through some economic complications, so he wears only a pair of shoes- which are covered in poorly-washed mud. Billy's jeans, if you pay attention, have been recently washed too, but I believe somebody mistook the washing soap with some other thing, a stronger one, because now there's a chemical stain that's not going anywhere. Weird, right? Because his parents know how to do laundry, why would they make such mistake? It's almost like somebody that knows nothing about cleaning products tried to clean something up, keeping it a secret from his parents. 

Now, if the body is, indeed, on the park, we know who did it. If it isn't, you should look in Dylan Tran's car, where he spent the night, according to his clothes. I don't think he could have took her somewhere else, being as drunk as he was last night, it must have been impossible. He would have crashed his car and there would be physical evidence of it. 

Speaking of which, I should point out that there should be physical evidence of a murder in him, but he doesn't have a scratch. If he killed her, it must have been bloody, so he should be covered in blood. He lives with his parents and three brothers, so he couldn't have possibly cleaned himself in time to attend to classes without letting any of them know, which means he didn't do it. Why would the body be in his car, then?

Because he is the best friend of a cold blooded psychopath called Aaron Simons. If he killed her, it probably happened after everyone left, except his best friend, who passed out on his car. Now he has a dead body and a witness who remembers him being the last person with Amanda. Tough one. 

But maybe, that witness can be useful. As drunk as he was, he might not remember exactly what happened, and if you woke up, unable to remember anything you did, and you find a corpse on your trunk... What would you think?"

Both men looked completely charmed by my deductions, but Sherlock was especially delighted.

"That... was amazing", said Dr Watson, with his mouth slightly open.

"Really?"

"Yes! It was brilliant!" He exclaimed, making a wide smile settle on my face.

"Thank you. That's not the usual reaction I get from people." 

"People's reactions are overrated." Said Sherlock. I smiled sadly, avoiding eye contact.

"That's easy to say when you actually have friends, huh?" I tried to joke. The men traded looks quickly, doubtful of what I meant. "Everyone here thinks I'm a psychopath. Even the teachers. Geez,  _ especially _ the teachers." I corrected myself. Something about Sherlock's expression told me that he could relate to what I was saying. "I feel dumb, y'know? Worrying about what people think. But denying that I care about it doesn't help."

I snapped back to reality right before I could kept talking. Just because I had found two persons who don't think I'm insane doesn't mean they care about my social struggles, I reminded myself.

The consulting detective was about to say something when he got interrupted by the bell ringing. In a couple of seconds, the cafeteria started to get crowded by students.

"The information you gave us is priceless. Thank you, very much." Said Watson, clear and loudly, shaking my hand as he stood up.

Mr. Holmes and I imitated him, and I walked them back to the Sub Principal's office.

Before I knocked the door, Sherlock said, softly:

"If there's anything I can do for you, don't hesitate in calling. Here's my number." He handed me a small piece of paper, with a bunch of numbers and a 'S.H.' at the end.

I smiled, proudly.

"Can you get me out of here?" I joked.

When the door opened, John and Sherlock traded looks again, and I didn't saw them again.

.

.

.

Until now.

The two men were sitting in the Principal's office, in the left of you and your parents who watched you concerned and worried. With the detectives, another three other officers had came.

"...After her collaboration with Amanda's case, the London's Police Department and I came to the agreement that Brenda is a bright young lady with a big future as a detective and we believe that she might be better off in a more stimulating environment, somewhere where her abilities will be better applied than here." Explained Sherlock, before 

  
  
  



	17. the best friend

“Y/N, you can't go in there!”

“Try and stop me!”

I opened the door at the same time he took a step back. “Whatever! I tried.”

Terry turned around, making his uniform twirl, and walked away in surrender as I entered the room. My best friend in the world sat in one of the white beds, wearing a hospital robe and looking tired.

“Oh, hey, Y/N.”

“‘ _ Hey’ _ ? I get a call saying that you're in the hospital and that I'm your emergency contact- which, by the way, I'm very flattered,  _ but let me know next time _ , and when I get here I'm told I  _ can't _ see you because I'm not  _ related _ or whatever, and  _ no one _ is capable of telling what the fuck happened to you, and  _ all _ you say when I  _ finally _ reach you is  _ 'Hey’ _ !?”

“You expected a 'Hello’? Or maybe something like 'Greetings’?”

“I'm going to kill you.”

“It's nice to see you too.”

“You're an asshole, and you'll soon be a dead asshole.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, that so.”

“Can at least introduce you, before you try to kill me?”

“Bold of you to assume I will fail.”

“Guys, this is Y/N. She's my roommate, and best friend. Y/N, these are Sam and Dean Winchester, old friends, and this is Bobby Singer, my dad.”

“ _ Oh _ . Well,  _ shit _ . I do not intend to murder you daughter, sir. I


	18. the puppet master

Lucifer grinned, enjoying the scene in front of him. He was going to win, he was  _ finally _ going to kill Dean and Castiel and with that, every Winchester would be exterminated off the face of the Earth. 

Killing Sam first had been the best idea he'd ever had.

And as soon as he thought that, there was a sound of wings and the next thing they know is that neither of them can move. A girl had appeared, smiling widely. She waved and blinked, tossing her hair over her shoulder.   
  
"Hello! I heard you wanted to kill Lucifer, is that right?" She smiled brightly and batted her eyelashes. Then, pretending she hadn't noticed him before, turned to where Lucifer was standing. "Oh, hi, Luci! Cas," She acknowledged with a small bow of her head, “it's been a while.”   
  
"Hello, (Y/N),” Lucifer said, gritting his teeth. His attention turned to her instead of Dean, obviously considering her to be more of a threat than the hunter was.   
  
"Who the hell are you?"   
  
"Oh! Wow, that's rude!" The girl walked towards Lucifer, a little pout matching her frown. “You've never mentioned me? Not even once?”

He growled, and she turned to Cas, questioning eyes on her face. 

“Neither did you? Oh, wait,” She commented, after seeing his eyes widen and then narrow in confusion, “you didn't even remember me! You have an excuse. But you, Luci... Ouch. Really,  _ I'm hurting _ .”

After a sigh, she materialized a pink milkshake, and took a deep sip. Dean frowned at Cas, but the angel didn't know much more than he did.

“I guess that  _ does _ makes this easier.”

“What is  _ ‘this’ _ ?”

She frowned, as if the answer were obvious. The milkshake teleported from her hand to a small decorative table behind her.

"You want to get rid of him, and so I'm here."   
  
“Why?” Asked Cas, “What are you getting out of this?”

She giggled, and then looked at the ceiling, with an entertained expression on her face. 

“Well,  _ of course _ I'm not doing it for free! I should have started there, didn't I?”

“What do you want?” Dean asked. She grinned and took a step closer to him.

“I want to make a deal with you.”   
  
Dean’s eyes hardened.

“You want my soul? Not happening, sweetheart.”

“Now  _ what _ would I do with your soul?” She replied, laughing, “I can offer you this: If you accept, I'll get Lucifer back in his Cage-”

“You said dead,” Dean interrupted.

“Yeah, but the Empty is easier to escape these days...” She explained, and then added, laughing, “And  _ I  _ should know about that! But if you want him dead, you can have it your way. Not what  _ I'd _ advise, but...” She trailed off.

Dean looked at Cas, and he stared back at him. She had a point, as much as he hated to admit it. Bringing someone back from the dead was easier than opening the Cage.

When Dean looked back at the girl, she already knew what he had decided. Smiling again, she went on. 

“Once he's back in the Cage, I'll get you your brother back.”

Dean stiffened at her words. Cas panicked- Dean was going to say yes, he knew it, no matter what she asked from him. 

“And in return, I get to have a day of fun with you. You know, fire, knives, chains, the works... For 24 hours.  _ Earth _ hours, by the way.” 

If Dean was scared, he didn't let it show. But Cas knew him too much, and he saw how, even terrified, he was considering it.

“Dean,” he called, trying to express his fear through his voice. Dean looked at him, but said nothing.

“Once the day is over, I will return you healthy and in one piece to your family. Isn't it sweet?” She smiled, “What do you say?”

Dean stared at her, trying to figure out where the trick was.

“And if I say no?”

“I'll send him to the Cage regardless.”

Everybody’s eyes shot open.

“What? Why?”

She shrugged, a guilty-ish smile on her face.

“Let's just say, you're not the only one tired of his bullshit.” 

Dean’s eyes went to Lucifer, who was awfully quiet, and just then realized that the archangel was trying to speak... And he couldn't. He was mouthing words, but no sound came out, as if someone had pressed a  _ mute _ button on him.

She followed Dean's eyes, just in time to see Lucifer -trying to- warn him, “don’t trust that backstabbing bitch.”

Her eyebrows shot up, honestly offended.

“Are you talking about me?” Lucifer just stared, facial expression being just enough to say what his vocal cords couldn't. “ _Me?_ _I'm_ the backstabbing one?”

She let out a laugh that started sarcastic, but then she made a pause and went on, this time sounding as if she didn't believe what she was hearing.

“Did you hit your fucking head climbing out of the Cage? Or was it when you fell?” He tried to stare down at her, but she was way too mad to give a shit. “Because there's  _ no way _ that you honestly think  _ I'm _ the backstabber here unless there's a concussion involved.”

Lucifer's eyes travelled to Dean for a split second, but it was long enough for her to notice and pull herself back together.

“As I was saying, he's done for, no matter what you decide.” Before Dean could say anything, she added, “But, alas: No deal, no Sammy.”   
  
Dean’s jaw tightened.

Did he trust her?  _ No _ . But she was being fair, kind of.

And he was only keeping it together because he wanted to get his revenge on Lucifer, but once that was done-...

Sammy was dead, and he had barely had time to give him a proper burial.

Besides, it was only 24 hours. Not even Hell hours, just a regular day of torture. He had already gotten through 40 years for Sam, 24 hours was  _ nothing _ .

Her nearly cynical smile was replaced for a kind one that almost looked honest.

“Take your time. I imagine this is a big decision.”

“Fine,” Dean grunted as soon as she stopped talking, “You’ve got a deal.”

“Dean!” Pleaded Castiel, wide eyed. He knew it was useless, but still.

“Don't worry, Cassie. You'll get him back as soon as I'm done with him. I'll even delete from his memory anything too traumatizing!”

The force holding Dean and Castiel in their places disappeared, and Cas went straight to where the hunter was standing, placing his hand on his shoulder.

“You don't have to do this,” he said, hoping he'd change his mind, and knowing damn well he wouldn't.

Dean didn't respond, he just turned to face (Y/N).

“You can still back off,” she reminded him, her eyes travelling between the two of them. 

Even at 5’8”, she had to look up at both of them. Next time she was wearing heels, she decided.

“No. I'll do it,” he replied, firmly.

She nodded. “I'll bring your brother back, and then I'll handle Lucifer. Once you get your part, I'll come to cash my side of the deal.”

“Alright.”

“Very well then.”

She took a step closer, and, keeping her arms by her sides, she placed her lips on his.

When she stepped back, Dean sighed and stared, expecting something to happen.

She took several steps back, until she was about six feet away. A second later, Sam stood in the middle of them, dressed in designer clothes.

“Dean?” He asked, after standing there for a few seconds, and Dean pulled him into a hug. 

By the time he was hugging Cas, his mind was clearer. 

“... _ How? _ Lucifer, he killed me-”

Dean shot a pointed look at the girl, and Sam followed his gaze. First he saw her, but his attention quickly went to the archangel, still frozen in his place just another feet away.

He backed away until he was standing besides Cas and Dean, and just then he asked, “How are you doing that?”

“Nuclear science.” She let out a laugh, and then continued, mostly directed towards Dean, “When do you usually wake up?”

Dean frowned. “What?”

“Is ten a.m. good for you?” She insisted. Dean nodded, still confused. “I'll see you tomorrow, Dean,” she smiled, “goodbye guys, it was nice to meet you.”

(Y/N) turned around and walked towards Lucifer, and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, releasing his voice.

“You're going to regret this, (Y/N),” he threatened, but she just giggled.

“ _ No. _ No, I will not.”

And a second later, they were both gone.

“What the hell just happened?”

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

When the clock marked 09:59 the next morning, Dean shot down the last sip of whiskey and stood up from his chair. He left the glass on the table and turned around, just to end up facing two concerned faces.

Before either of them could get a word out, he sighed, loudly.

“Don't worry about this, okay? I'll be back tomorrow, good as new.”

His voice sounded tired and edging sarcasm, but they saw right through it.

“What if she's lying, Dean?” Asked Sam, as he hoped no one would realize the high pitched tone he had. Concern wasn't a good look on him, he knew that way too well.

“We don't know anything about her,” added Castiel, his blue eyes squinting, “as far as we know she could be setting a trap for you, and we-”

“Did you find everything to your satisfaction?” Asked a feminine voice.

To say that the tension grew would be an understatement. Sam got closer to Dean and pulled out a gun, just as Castiel did the same with his angel blade. Dean did try to stop them, but it was useless. 

The three of them looked up towards the source of the voice. Sitting on the top of the stairs, legs hanging down and with the same evil grin as the day before, (Y/N) watched them, entertained.

She was wearing a half ponytail and carried another strawberry shake, which make her look younger than she already was.

“What do you mean?”

She smiled, as her legs started to swing back and forth. “Did Castiel check the Cage yet? I'm sure he has, right, Cassie?”

Cas looked over at Dean before nodding.

“Did you find what you were expecting?”

“...Yes.”

“Great!” She chuckled, celebrating, “And is Sammy feeling okay? Everything functional?”

“What?” Asked Sam, lowering the gun in confusion.

“What's that supposed to mean?” Barked Dean, defensive, “Why wouldn't he be? What did you do to him?”

“I...  _ Brought him back from the dead? _ ” She replied, but it sounded like a guess, “Oh my God, guys, seriously? You're Winchesters, so this might come as a surprise for you, but coming back from the dead is  _ not _ natural. As in, ‘it is not supposed to happen’. And, for that exact reason, things could randomly go wrong, because  _ it is not supposed to happen _ . So I'll ask again: Is everything working correctly with your brother?”

Dean looked at Sam, searching for a confirmation with his eyes.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” Sam said, the reply directed equally at both of them.

(Y/N) smiled, and then teleported right in front of them.

“So we're ready to go then.” 

“You're not taking my brother,” Sam stated, harshly.

Her eyes shot open a little, and Dean stepped in immediately.

“Sam, don't,” he said firmly, and Sam recognized the tone, the same one Dean had used to tell him to stop trying to break his deal, back when he had sold his soul.

“Why? Is there something wrong?” She asked, faking innocence.

Sam understood the fear Dean was feeling, terrified of (Y/N) undoing her part of the deal if she didn't get what she wanted, but he couldn't stop himself.

“We don't even know who you are,” he accused, “and you expect us to let you take him to who knows where?”

“I'm (Y/N),” she said, slowly, as if she were talking to a child. When his eyes grew colder, she added, “Okay, what about this?”

She materialized a dark, leather looking cube, and showed it to Sam, smiling again.

“I'll leave this with you as a safety deposit and you give it back once the 24 hours are over. You could even spend that time trying to figure  _ what _ this is, and that way you could be occupied with something productive instead of...”

“ _ What? _ Saving him?” Sam interrupted, taking a step forward.

“Sam, stop it, now,” Dean barked, but he got ignored. His pain in the ass little brother needed to stop trying to piss her off before she decided he wasn't worth the trouble. 

“Well, that's kind of expected,” She laughed, and then shrugged, “I mean, if he doesn't try to escape then what's the fun? A rescue attempt is just as good though. But please, don't feel forced to anything.”

Sam frowned and took a deep breath. She just wanted to have fun? That was it? He felt like it was too simple, too easy to be true. 

And, if he missed something, his brother could die- Or worse.

“Anyways, do you want this or not?”

“Yes,” Sam replied, and a pair of leather gloves appeared on his hands.

“Trust me,” She said, when he questioned her with his eyes, “you don't want to touch that with your bare hands.” Once he had it in his hands, she sighed, and asked, “Can we leave now?”

Dean nodded and took a few steps forward, until he was facing her. She was about his size now that she had heels on.

“One last thing, actually. I mentioned it before, but I need to hear you agree with it: if something gets too traumatizing, I will delete it from your memories, permanently and irreversibly. Do you consent to that?”

Dean nodded again, but she shook her head.

“Say it out loud,” she asked.

“Why?” Asked Cas, who was focused on finding as much about her as he could. “Is it a moral thing or..?”

“Moral? No, I don't have one of those,” she laughed, “but I  _ do _ have rules, though. And the deal only covered body, not mind, so I need permission. Psychological torture is effective, yes, but there's no fun in it, so I'm not a fan. I'm not putting you through that for nothing. So, again, is it okay if I delete your memories?”

“Yes.”

“Dean!” Protested Sam, but she just spoke over him.

“Great!” Balancing her drink in one hand, she put down in the floor a just materialized alarm clock, with a countdown that marked 23:59:59, that started to go down immediately. “Bye, guys, see you soon!”

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

The hours went by slow, very slow. Agonizingly slow, even, depending on what your situation was. Sam barely saw Cas’ face during the time Dean was gone.

He spent most of the time on Heaven, or chasing down people who could know anything about (Y/N). 

Sam stayed in the bunker, reading, drinking coffee, researching, running his hands through his hair in desperation and then reading some more. 

Cas came back two times before the clock went off, the first to ask Sam for the cube, and the second time to return it to the bunker- And carrying some sort of good news.

“This is just a container- A box, of sorts, made to keep what's inside out of the radar.”

“What's that?” Asked Sam.

“A coat,” the angel replied, opening the box through a hidden mechanism and pulling out a white cloth.

As Cas extended it in the air, the cloth took quickly the shape of a vintage looking coat. It was pearly white, and adorned with feathers around the neck and sleeves. The buttons were golden, and shined with strength even when they weren't getting much light to reflect.

“A...  _ Coat?” _ He repeated, confused. “What-? Why is it so important?”

“There's a Japanese legend that talks about a  _ hagoromo _ , which means 'celestial feather robe’. It's supposed to belong to a celestial maiden, who needs it to return to her home in Heaven.”

“Celestial maiden?”

“It’s an angel of sorts. There were a very few of them, under the command of an archangel named Alma.”

“I thought there were only four archangels,” Sam recalled.

“Alma had the title, but not the status. And she died long before the Bible was written, so she was excluded. Her maidens weren't exactly angels, they were holy beings but they needed their robes to fly and use their powers. They were in charge of recreation.”

“ _ Recreation _ ? In Heaven?”

“Their services were not usually needed. But they spent most of the time acting and dancing, regardless. I'm not sure what happened to them after the apocalypse.”

“So, you're thinking this (Y/N) is one of them?” Sam asked.

“Going by a fake name, yes,” Cas nodded, and put the coat back inside the box. “She did not lie about this object, however. All her grace is in it.”

“If she doesn't have her grace, how is she teleporting?”

“I don't know. The same way she froze an archangel and opened the Cage at will. The maidens were not warriors, they did not have that kind of power. But,” he continued, closing the box, “even if she doesn't need it to use her powers, this is a part of her. Almost as big as my own grace is to me.”

“I see. So if she tried anything sketchy...”

“We could use it against her,” Cas finished for him.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

“Sam?” Called out a shaky voice from the library. Sam and Cas stared at each other for a split second, and in that exact moment the alarm clock (Y/N) had left went off. 

Both men stood up and raced towards the source of the voice. (Neither of them noticed at the time, but the box with the coat disappeared from the table.) Dean stood there, holding on to the table, a terrified frown clouding his features.

“Dean!” Sam ran until he was standing next to his brother, but when he attempted to put his hand on Dean's shoulder, he stopped him abruptly.

“What happened?”

“What?” Asked Cas, starting to get closer too. He seemed fine, at least on a physical level. He was wearing the same clothes as before, but they had been ironed and washed. 

“What do you mean?” Insisted Sam.

“She was just here, and then- And now she's gone..? What happened?”

“Dean,” said Sam, almost begging, “she took you with her. The 24 hours are over.”

Sam's voice was sweet and slow, as if by saying it calmly it would freak his brother out less.

Dean took in a sharp breath, and when he exhaled, he saw for the first time that they both looked exhausted. Even Cas, whose appearance was rarely affected, had a tiredness in his eyes that gave it away.

“I... I don't remember. I can't remember anything.”

Cas stepped closer. 

“Nothing? At all?”

Dean shook his head, getting more and more tense by the second. He avoided looking at their eyes as his breath picked up its pace.

“Why would she..?”

“She said that she'd do it if it got 'too traumatizing’ but...” Sam trailed off. Then, he noticed that Dean was nearly panicking, and so he grabbed his brother's arm and made him sit down. “Dean, breathe. We're gonna find out what happened.”

Dean inhaled deeply, and as he exhaled he shook his head. 

“Sam, we already know what happened. It's alright, I promise. It was just...” His eyes met Cas’, and the angel frowned softly. “A shock, that's all.”

“But...” Cas tried.

“It's fine.” Dean said, and then he stood up and left.

But it wasn't fine. As the days passed, it became more and more obvious. 

Dean was jumpy, waking up in the middle of the night due to nightmares (Cas found out by the second night they were memories from hell, and not what had actually happened during that day,) and Sam and Cas could only watch as his amount of alcohol per day kept increasing.

Sam was tired of seeing his brother like this. And he was going to do something about it. 

Cas hadn't really discovered much about (Y/N): She was a maiden, but where did her power came from was still a mystery. Some angels in Heaven had heard of her. No one knew what she was up to or where she could be found. She popped up around the globe from time to time, making deals and doing favors.

A lot of people thought she was just a legend. They knew better.

So one night that Dean had gone into town to get drunk and (very probably) laid, Cas and Sam sat down in the library table to plot.

“She knew you guys were going after Lucifer,” pointed out Sam.

“She waited until he almost had us,” Cas said, “she wanted to have everything in her favor to make sure Dean would say yes.”

“Or maybe I was just late,” a voice said. Sam and Cas jumped out of their seats, and (Y/N) continued talking, sitting with her legs crossed on the table, “I  _ do _ have a life outside of this, you know?”

Just like last time, soon Cas had his blade on hand, and Sam, after realizing he wasn't carrying his gun, had reached for one they kept under the table for emergencies.

“Why are you here?” Demanded Cas, gripping firmly his weapon.

“You were talking about me. I got curious.”

“How did you know we were talking about you?” Asked Sam.

“I'm an angel, remember? Gossiping is the closest thing to prayer I'll ever get.”

That sentence left Sam wondering, but he didn't allow himself to get too distracted. 

“What do you want?” Castiel insisted, eyes narrowing as he took a step forward. 

“I came to ask you the  _ same damn question _ ,” (Y/N) said harshly, with a nearly homicidal grin, “You are the ones that wanted to find me. Well, now you have! Shouldn't you be celebrating? Why are you so upset?”

“ _ Why are we-? _ ” Sam repeated in disbelief. Fuck the whole powerful angel thing, he had some things to say and she was going to listen. “We are upset because whatever it was that you did to my brother left him so messed up that he started to get nightmares from hell again. He doesn't eat, he doesn't sleep, and he can't even remember what happened to him. That's probably the worst part, because we can't help him get over it if we don't know what the hell he went through.” (Y/N) stopped smiling, and instead limited herself to listen patiently. “And for all we know, the torture could have been to get some kind of information, and this could be all part of a plan to take over Heaven, or whatever it is that you want to do. So-”

“Sam,” She interrupted, voice soft and low. The brutal change from the loud, sharp and obnoxious tone she normally used made Sam go quiet suddenly. “I know what kind of person you are used to dealing with. And I know you won't believe me _just_ _because_ , but I am not one of them.”

Slowly and in a swift movement, she uncrossed her legs and got off the table as she spoke. She stood there, with both hands placed innocently, in plain sight, on the back of a chair.

“When I found out Lucifer was out of the Cage, I didn't do anything because I was convinced you guys could take him. I mean, it's not the first time you handle a situation like that. But then, Lucifer killed you, and as much as I wanted to get rid of him and get this over with, I knew Dean wanted revenge, and I didn't want to take that away from him.

"You two wouldn't have trusted me if I just showed up offering help, so I decided to wait until you couldn't refuse it. Which I'm sure by your standards it's kinda shitty, but I don't really care what you think, to be honest. I offered Dean the deal both because I wanted him to feel involved in sending Lucifer back to the Cage, and because I needed an excuse to bring you back. You don't deserve to die like that.”

Sam and Cas just stared, going over the ton of information (Y/N) had just dumped on them, looking for holes in her story, and she took advantage of that one last time.

“I'm sorry Dean is feeling like that. If he wants to know what happened,” She took a business card out of nowhere and placed it on the table. “Call me, and I'll come. If not, well, there isn't much I can do. Sorry. Really, this doesn't happen often. I hope he feels better soon.”

“(Y/N)-” Called Sam, but she was gone.

Cas picked up the card. It was black with pastel pink letters, that read a phone number, with a small heart where the name should be.

Sam looked at him, and Cas met his eyes with a deep frown.

“Do you think she's telling the truth?”

“Maybe,” the angel conceived, “should we tell Dean about her offer?”

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

“You two _brought her_ _here!?_ ” Shouted Dean, his palm hitting the wooden table. “Are you out of your minds?”

At least, Cas thought, waiting until morning had been a good idea. Dean was sober and if he was mad  _ now- _ He didn't even imagine how he would have reacted if they had told him while he was drunk.

“We didn't-..! She just appeared in the library!” Replied Sam, cringing at how childish he sounded.

“And I'm supposed to believe that? Nothing can get in here!”

“She did the first time, didn't she? Besides, she didn't try anything weird, she just spoke and gave us her number.”

“Sam, you- Goddamn it, listen, I don't care what she did, I don't care what she said, I _ don't fucking trust her _ . I'm not going to call her, and neither will any of you. I'm  _ fine!” _

“No you're not! Stop lying, Dean, we're not blind!”

“Excuse me? You-”

“It's like Hell all over again!” Sam accused, and then added, no longer shouting, “I'm worried, Dean. Please, just... Give it a shot, will you?”

Dean took a deep shaky breath.

“Cas?” He called, “What do you think?”

“I think Sam is right, Dean.”

The hunter closed his eyes and swallowed hard.

“Fine.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah. I'll call her tonight, okay? But after that you have to get off my back. I mean that.”

“Yeah, sure,” said Sam, a relieved smile creeping on his face. “Whatever you say.”

Dean rolled his eyes one last time.

“I need some coffee now. Couldn't you wait until I had had some to dump this shit on me?”

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

“Dean, put the blade down. You’re gonna hurt yourself.”

The voice startled him for a moment, but he recovered immediately.

“Hello, (Y/N).”

“Hi.” She replied. He got up from the diner table, still holding on to the angel blade. They were pretty much alone in the back, so no one saw him. “I assume Sam and Cas gave you my message?”

“... _ Yeah _ ,” Dean sighed. “I know I agreed to it, but-”

“They told me. I'm sorry, Dean. It was supposed to help, not make it worse.”

“I know. Will-” He looked up from the floor and met her eyes, his voice flaking a little bit. “Will it help? Remembering?”

“I'm certain it will.” She walked up to the table and sat down, and then dragged a chair until it was right by her side. “Sit, this might make you dizzy.”

He compelled, obedience born from exhaustion. 

“It's not going to hurt,” she assured. “But, there's something you should keep in mind. You can never talk about this with anyone, is that clear?”

Dean met her eyes again before nodding.

She placed her open palm on his forehead, and taking a deep breath, she projected the images of what had happened during the day he was missing.

_ He blinked a few times and started to take in the room around him. It was... cozy, and clean. There were two massive windows that let the light inside, a TV and two nice couches. There was also a hallway that lead somewhere else, but he couldn't see past it. _

_ He was going to wait in silence, but then she sat down in one of the couches and he couldn't help himself. _

_ “Where are we?” _

_ “My house,” she replied, nonchalantly. “Are you gonna stand there the whole day or what?” _

Dean's sight cleared and for one second, (maybe the hunter instincts kicking in, against having someone mess with his sight,) he saw again the diner he was in, he felt (Y/N)'s hand in his head and then, once he realized it wasn't done, he was back again inside a memory.

_ “You said you were going to torture me,” he pointed out, questioning tone hidden somewhere in his voice. _

_ “I did. Sorry about that, by the way. I lied.” _

_ “What?” He asked, growing nervous. He had prepared himself for torture- In her own words, ‘knives, salt, the works’- and now she just casually mentioned she was lying. Things like these always tend to get worse, and he was afraid to even imagine  _ how _ it could get worse than that. _

_ “I have a reputation to keep. Seriously, sit down. I don't bite.” _

_ Dean sat down, but his silence didn't last long. _

_ “What is this? A trap? A joke? I don't understand,” he insisted. _

_ “I-” (Y/N) took a deep breath, putting her thoughts in order. “I lie a lot, Dean. About my name, about who I am, about what I want... It gets tiring really fast. _

_ "But I do it for a reason, and that reason can,  _ and will _ , get me killed if I ever slip. The only way I found to keep me from going crazy without putting myself in risk is this.” _

_ “What is  _ ‘this’ _?” _

_ “I won't lie to you. For the next 24 hours, at least. And once that time is over, I will delete all of this from your memories.” _

_ “What?” _

_ “Is for your own safety. Mine too, obviously. But, well, it is what it is.” _

_ “What if I say no?” He pushed. _

_ “Then I won't. But there's people out there, that want the information you're about to receive, and they can...  _ 'Sense it’ _ , to put it somehow. If you know what they want to know, they will find you, and they'll make Hell look like a vacation in Hawaii.” _

_ His eyes narrowed as he analyzed his options. _

_ Then, after recalling her own words, he asked, “Who is after you?” _

_ (Y/N) smiled, pleased. “They're- _

The memory was cut off before (Y/N) could say anything else.

Dean took a second to relocate himself before turning to face (Y/N), almost drowning in questions.

“What was that?”

“You wanted to know what happened, and that's exactly what I showed you.”

“So you lied about..? Why?”

“I already explained all of that to you, remember?” She smiled. Before he could say anything else, she added, “This should put an end to your nightmares, but if it doesn't, let me know and I'll see if I can help you some other way.”

“Oh... Okay.”

“And I meant that, Dean,” She warned, “you  _ can not _ tell anyone about this. Not even Castiel, not even your brother, not even  _ Jesus Christ himself _ .”

He nodded, his gaze fixated on the floor.

“Wait,” he called, and she frowned, but let him go on, “If you didn't do anything to me, why did I get the nightmares from Hell again?”

“I think it was just the paranoia of not remembering what happened. Your mind trying to cope and what not.”

“What a shitty way of coping my mind has,” he replied, and she let a smirk back into her face.

“Welcome to the club.” She turned around to leave, but before she disappeared, she said, “And talk to your family, alright? Poor bastards are going crazy worrying about you.”

“I will.”

“Great. All they ever talk about is me lately. It's annoying.”

“I'll make sure to have them stop.”

“Thank you, Dean. I'll owe you one.”

And just before he could ask what she meant exactly by that, she disappeared.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

“Dean?”

“Heya, Sammy.”

A wave of relief washed over the younger brother. Dean's voice had sounded honest and relaxed, and even though he was tired as hell, he seemed more energetic than when he'd left.

“How'd it go?”

“It was fine,” he said, and then, as if not to worry Sam, he corrected, “Good. It helped.”

Sam didn't say  _ I told you so _ just for the sake of not ruining the moment.

“Was it ...Bad?”

“No. It- I think it was just the paranoia, y'know?”

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Maybe tomorrow.”

Sam knew he was bombarding him with questions, and he also knew Dean was making an effort not to flip him off. So, against all his instincts, he just sighed one last time.

“Think you'll be fine now?”

“Yeah. I really do. And speaking of which,” he said, and took a sharp breath in, “I'm gonna crash, because I feel like I just ran a marathon.”

“Yeah, okay. See you tomorrow.”

“See ya.”

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

“Morning.”

Cas and Sam looked up to see a refreshed, smiling Dean standing in the doorway of the library.

“Hey,” greeted back Sam.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better now,” Dean assured. Then he remembered (Y/N)'s words, and he added, hesitant, “Thanks, by the way. It really- ...Yeah.”

_ You were right, _ he meant.

“Don't worry. You wanna talk about it, or..?”

Sam was pushing his luck, he knew that for a fact, but he couldn't care less.

“There isn't much to talk about,” he said, as he sat on the table. “She lied, when she said she was going to torture me. She just wanted to talk.”

“Wait, what?” Asked Castiel, deep voice stained with concern.

“Yeah, she- She showed me, bits of what happened, like in a vision or something.”

“But,  _ talk _ ? About what?”

“Wouldn't tell me.” Dean shrugged, “She also asked me to make you stop talking about her all day long.”

Cas and Sam shared a look before nodding.

“I just don't know what she could have told that was so secret, you know?”

“Well, according to her, that's why she deleted my memories, to make sure I wouldn't tell anyone.”

Sam was starting to fidget when he realized Dean looked almost sedated.

“And you're...  _ Okay _ , with that?” He asked, and Dean frowned at him, “You don't think she's up to something?”

Dean took a deep breath before shaking his head. “For once, no. I think she just needed to talk to someone- no creepy, evil hidden intentions.”

“So we're clear?” Confirmed Cas, who was still frowning despite the good news.

“All clear.”

-+ a year later +-

"Find something?"

"How could I? We have no leads," Replied Sam, taking the bag Dean handed out to him.

"I know, but- Eh, was worth a shot."

"Did you hear back from Cas yet?"

"He texted me earlier, said he was almost done with his thing." Sam nodded along at his brother's words. "He should be here soon."

Sam nodded.

Not too long after the Winchesters had finished their lunch, the angel appeared in their motel room.

"Hi, Cas."

"Hello, Dean, Sam," He said, calmly. One second later, though, he was frowning. "I'll be back in a moment."

"Nice to see you too," muttered Dean, staring into the empty space Cas had been standing in just a second ago.

He didn't lie, however. Less than two minutes later Castiel was back, frowning deeply.

"An angel was responsible for this," he declared.

“Wait, an angel?  _ How? _ ” Sam asked, incredulous, “There's barely any angels left! Why would they even..?”

“I do not know,” Cas replied, “but there is grace all over the crime scenes-" He sighed slowly, and then went on, ashamed. "I'm sorry I couldn't get here sooner. I would have felt the grace. The case could be solved by now.”

“You’re here now, that’s what matters,” assured Dean.

“We’re gonna stop whoever’s behind this before someone else gets hurt," added Sam, opening his laptop. He pulled up the case files and went over them again, but this time with a bigger context. Things started to make sense.

"Well, we can rule out Heaven and the angels affiliated with it," said Cas, and the brothers turned to look at him, "There's barely enough angels to keep Heaven running, and the victims were not of interest for them."

"You sure?" Asked Dean, looking for reassurance.

"Yes. According to what I saw today, their main focus is to create more angels," He explained, "I don't see how killing those people could have helped."

"So we're looking for rouges, then," muttered Sam, turning his attention back to the laptop.

Suddenly, he leaned closer to the screen, alarmed.

"What?" 

Same turned the laptop to his brother and pushed it to his side if the table. Both he and Cas got closer to the screen, where a photo of the crime scene was opened on top of the other tabs.

"Does that look familiar to you?"

Cas looked at Sam, frowning.

"(Y/N)'s coat," he said, and Dean frowned in realization.

"The box she gave you two..? But w-?" He shook his head, starting over. "You think she's the one who did this?"

"Let's find out."

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Standing alone in the warehouse, Dean prayed.

_ (Y/N), if you can hear this, I need your help. You said you'd owe me, right? _

Sam and Cas watched everything from their spots, hidden away in both extremes of the building to cover more exits.

But nothing happened. Well, not  _ nothing _ . The second he finished his prayer and opened his eyes, Dean's phone started to ring.

"Hello?"

"You called?" Came back the animated and sweet voice he had almost forgotten.

"(Y/N)?"

"Who else could it be?"

"Sorry, I thought you'd show up," Dean said, gesturing to let Sam and Cas know it was her, "that's more your style."

"My style is also _not_ _getting trapped,"_ she said, the cheerfulness lowering drastically, "put me on speaker, I want to speak with the three of you."

"Wh-"

"We're past this, Dean, don't you think?"

He sighed, defeated.

"Done."

"Hi guys!" She greeted, "How you doing? Everything alright?"

"It'd be better with you here," Dean insisted, as the other two surrendered and got out of their hidden spots, "why don't you join us?"

"Sorry, Dean, but that's a hard pass. I know it's not a coincidence that we're all in the same town. Wanna tell me what you're up to?"

"We could ask you the same thing," said Sam, venomous. He'd always known she couldn't be trusted, and for not listening to his instincts, people had died. He wasn't in the mood for her little performance.

"Go for it, then. What do you wanna know?"

"Did you kill those people?"

" _ Maybe _ . Why?"

Dean rolled his eyes, annoyed. "Because we're kindly asking you to  _ stop _ ," He growled.

"Yeah, that's..." She sighed, entertained, "That's not gonna be possible, guys. Sorry," she added, "you know how much I like y'all."

"If you try to continue with this, we'll have to stop you, (Y/N)," Sam warned.

"Well, for one, you can't. And two, why would you want to stop me? I'm not doing anything bad."

"Oh  _ is that so? _ What do you call this, then?"

A feminine voice was heard on the background of her end of the line:  _ "She's here." _

"Listen, boys, can we do this later? I have some things to do that are-  _ How to put this lightly? _ More important than you."

"(Y/N)-!"

"See ya!" And she hung up.

(Y/N) turned around with her phone on her hand, to end up facing two women, one notoriously younger than the other.

"Thank you, Dike," Feeling herself dismissed, the goddess turned around and left the office. (Y/N) addressed then the teen. "How can I help you, Alison?"

"You liar!"

(Y/N)'s eyes widened, but nothing else. She would be lying if she said she didn't know why she was here, but she wanted Alison to tell her.

"Why's that?"

"You promised you'd kill all the rapists in this town, and instead you killed the only father figure I had! Why would you kill Bert?" 

"I did what I said I would, Alison," (Y/N) said, slowly. The redhead shook her head, violently.

"He wasn't- He would  _ never!" _

(Y/N) kept quiet. Is she wanted to understand, she would have to do it on her own.

"And all those other men! Why-?"

"Because you asked me to," (Y/N) said, infinitely patient.

"He was not a-!" She choked on her own tongue right before the word came out.

"I'm sorry," (Y/N) said. Alison looked at her, eyes red and swollen, and started to cry.

For a few minutes, nothing else happened. (Y/N) made the crying girl sit on a chair and let her mourn all the respect she had for her best friend's father- The man who had married her mom after her dad walked off on them.

She cried for a few minutes at least, not a word spoken until she had calmed down.

"I could bring him back if that's what you want."

It took her a second, but she shook her head.

"If he really... If he really did  _ that _ , then he deserved it," she whispered.

"And you still want me to finish this?"

Alison's eyes widened. "There's  _ more?" _

"There are eleven left."

"Oh, God." She covered her mouth with her hand, horrified. "Finish it. Please. I can't go out knowing there are still eleven-... Just,  _ God. _ "

"I'm truly sorry, Alison."

"I know you are."

"How's Katie?"

"Crying for her dad," came back the cold response. "How am I supposed to tell her that he-..?"

"You don't have to tell her," (Y/N) reminded her, "you don't have to do anything you don't want."

"But she's my friend!" Argued Alison, "And after what she went through- She deserves to know."

"Good luck, then."

She stood up and made her way back to the door, but when her hand reached the handle, she stopped.

"...When?"

(Y/N) sighed. "When he was in college."

"Oh," she whispered, and left the office.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"Uh... (Y/N)?" Dike called out. 

(Y/N) walked over to the goddess, and looked at the screen that had her frowning.

"Thanks for letting me know," She said, remaining calm. "You might want to leave now- I don't want you to get hurt accidentally."

"(Y/N), I'm a goddess," she replied, as if it were something obvious- Which  _ it was _ , for that matter.

"And those," (Y/N) shoot back, pointing at the security footage on the screen, "are  _ Winchesters _ ." She winced, and then had to take a deep breath. The hunters had built a name for themselves among the pantheons after the incident with Lucifer. "I just want you to be safe."

Dike nodded. "Alright. I'm going. But if I get any weird feelings,” she warned, “I’m coming back and I’ll skin them both alive."

"Thanks, Di."

The goddess shot her an annoyed look before vanishing, which earned a small giggle from (Y/N).

Next, she stood up straight and took a seat on top of the desk, patiently waiting for them to burst through the door.

By the time they did, though, she had already gotten herself a pink lollipop and was swinging her legs, entertained.

“Hiii...” She waved, taunting.

Dean frowned, imitated by Sam and Castiel. 

"Let me tell you what's about to happen here;" Dean started, angrily, "You'll talk, and smile and play dumb, you're gonna try to kill us, and then- You're gonna fail, and we'll kill you.  _ Unless, _ you play nice and tell us what the hell are you trying to do, and then we'll kill you nicely. So what's it gonna be?"

"Damn, that's a lotta anger- Have you considered therapy?"

A shot was the only response she got, right to where her head had been a split second ago. The bullet hit the wall behind her. The next thing she knew was that Cas had thrown himself at her and she had to dodge- First Cas and then Sam, who had an angel blade and was also much closer than the last time she'd checked.

Another two shots, Dean missed one while the other one went through her left arm, then a kick to the stomach and being pushed against a wall, and lastly an angel blade to her neck.

"You move and I'll kill you," threatened Sam, the blade getting closer to her skin.

"Oh, they grow up so fast!" (Y/N) dramatized, "One day you're raise them back from the dead and the next thing you know they try to murder you. Wonderful."

Sam narrowed his eyes at that, but he would be lying if he said he hadn't thought about it on his way there. Cas took his place, keeping her still, and the hunter went for the computer.

"Shut up," barked Dean, "I made a deal, you don't get credit for that."

"You spent  _ a day _ chilling at my place," She snapped back immediately, "I thought we'd bonded! Honestly I feel betrayed."

"Well that makes two of us," he hissed. Cas followed the interchange with attention, always keeping an eye on her. Sam, on the other hand, was doing his best to focus solely on the task at hand: Cracking the computer's security code. "Last time we talked you made it sound like you were just trying to have some innocent fun, and the next thing I know is that  _ you killed twenty six people _ ."

"Those weren't people, Dean," she argued.

"Don't even try that shit. We saw the bodies. Those were a hundred percent human."

"I didn't say they weren't," (Y/N) said, eternally patient, "Did you not find what they had in common?"

"They had  _ nothing _ in common," said Sam, the frustration of the past weeks clear on his voice, but not lifting his eyes from the screen.

"They did, you just failed to find it," she replied, and this time, Sam straightened his back on the chair to his full height and glared, hoping that the girl's face could just spontaneously combust.

"Sam, don't," called Dean, gun still in hand, "she's trying to piss you off. Don't give her the satisfaction."

"They  _ had _ something in common."

" _ Really?" _ Snapped Sam, to his brother's dismay, " _ What? _ Because it wasn't gender. It wasn't age, or race, or job or hobby- Nor religion nor neighborhood, not even the fucking supermarket and there's only  _ one _ in town!-..."

"Sam.  _ Sammy!" _

"Tell me, what  _ on Earth _ they had in common?!"

(Y/N) stared, mouth hanging open. Dean's gun was nowhere in sight, instead all of his attention had gone to prevent his brother from having a full on meltdown.

Sam took one, two deep, angry breaths and by the third, (Y/N) smirked widely and shrugged.

"I'm not doing your job for you. Figure it out."

Sam smashed his fist against the desk and jumped out of the chair, but Dean was expecting it and managed to stop him before he ripped (Y/N)'s head off.

"Sammy, hey, hey- Look at me." After a second, Sam compelled. "Don't let her have this. Focus. Breathe." Sam was calming down and Dean decided to seal it with some humo, just to be sure: "Once we're over, you can be the one that kills her."

Sam rolled his eyes, but there was no malice in there. He shot one last poisonous glare at (Y/N) before sitting down again and starting to type.

"You really don't-"

"Shut up," interrupted Dean.

"But you-"

"Silence."

"De-"

"Are you even capable of being quiet for fucking a second? Goddamn!"

"Fine!" She grunted, and then turned to look right into Castiel's eyes. "Sleep," she ordered, and the angel fell limply to the floor.

"Cas!"

One, two.

Three.

Four. 

Four bullets she had frozen in the air before flicking her wrist and throwing the gun across the room.

Both brothers were charging against her immediately after, so just like she did to Cas, one stare later they were both on the ground, sleeping profoundly.

"I try to be nice, I try to play along and make these fuckers happy- And  _ this _ is what I get. Unbelievable. Straight up, un-fucking-believable."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

The Winchesters woke up in the Impala, that was parked outside of the building of (Y/N)'s office.

Castiel offered to go take a look, but came back with the unsettling news that the whole floor was gone- Like it had never existed.

"Well that's just  _ fucking perfect _ ," growled Dean, "Now we have no (Y/N) and no leads. Awesome."

"But we  _ do _ , have a lead," Sam replied, which earned him a couple of confused stares. "She said it herself: There  _ is _ a connection between the victims. We just gotta find it."

Dean rubbed his eyes. That meant research- Almost worse than having nothing.

"You should check out the bar again, maybe this time you'll find something," suggested Sam, almost reading his brother's mind. "Cas could zap into the forensics' lab and take a look at the bodies, see if we missed something. I'll go through what I got from her computer." Dean looked at his brother, almost wary of this sudden wave of energy. "Whatever (Y/N)'s after, we can find it. What do you say?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah, I'm in."

"Me too."

"Great."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Dean had to excuse himself to the blonde he was talking to before picking up the phone and making his way out.

"What's up?"

"All the files on (Y/N)'s computer are encrypted with some sort of software I've never seen before," informed Sam. Dean missed most of it, though, because of the loud music and chattering, so when he finally got outside he asked:

"What's that mean for us, then?"

"I can't crack them.  _ But _ , there's one thing that caught my eye, back in the office. There was an appointment reminder on the computer's screen, written on a post it. So, I looked up the name, and I found something."

"What?"

"Remember that girl we passed when we were getting there?"

"Uh? What girl? Was she pretty?"

"She's sixteen, Dean."

He winced. 

"That explains why I don't remember her. What about it?"

"She had a meeting with (Y/N) right before we got there. So I looked her up, and it turns out that her stepfather is one of the victims."

"What? Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Her mother married him like twelve years ago, and they were still together up until (Y/N) killed him, four days ago."

"You think she went to get revenge?"

"Considering she left walking I'm not so sure. Don't get too hangover, tomorrow morning we're going to interview her, alright?"

"Yeah, you got it."

"Bye."

As Dean put his phone back into his pocket, he considered going back inside, but knowing that he'd have to get up early in the morning was really not helping his mood.

_ Ah, goddammit. _

He ran back inside and told Tess- or whatever her name was- some bullshit story about a work emergency, right before downing the remaining drink on his glass and heading outside again.

He started to walk towards the Impala, but he saw three or four guys yelling and pointing fingers at each other right where he was supposed to go through, and that made him realize he was too light-headed to get in a fight.

By the time he had decided to go around the building, he'd also realized he was  _ way _ too light-headed for the amount of alcohol he'd had.

He reached for his cellphone, but once he had started to unlock it, someone took it from his hands, tsking their tongue.

"Oh, no, no, we can't have that, now can we?" It was a man's voice, but suddenly Dean found himself unable to focus his eyes enough to see his face. "Sorry, cutie, but that's not happening."

Dean threw a punch, but his fist missed by far. He lost his balance for an instant, but the man's laughter made him focus again.

_ Demon? Monster? Maybe another hunter? _

"Wh- who..?"

He tried to walk, but his legs betrayed him, and he fell down.

"Shh, we don't wanna bother the rest of the patrons."

The man put a rag in Dean's mouth and suddenly, a long list of conclusions drowned him. One, he had been drugged. Two, this man was exactly that: A human man, that had no clue of who he was. Three, he couldn't fight this man, not like this. Four... Four, he was being dragged even further away from the light and the people and the noise- Or maybe that was just his consciousness leaving him defenseless against, and this was number five, a man who was planning to do things much worse than a kidnap.

"I'm not a fag, y'know? I was trying to get the cute blonde, but I got the wrong glass- You understand that, right?"

He felt cold, that much he recognized. He could also hear the man mumbling something that he couldn't make out, and the he felt cold. Again. But this time, his mind could make out the why: His jacket and shirt were gone, leaving him only with his undershirt, and so were his shoes. And the man was currently unbuttoning his jeans. 

"I guess I'll have to take what I can get, uh?"

_ No, no, no, get the hell away from me you sick fuck _ , he wanted to scream, but he couldn't even find his vocal cords.

And the man went on, until his jeans were halfway down his thighs, when he stopped.

Just... Stopped.

Maybe Dean's mind was just too groggy to register what was happening, but then he wouldn't have been able to even reason that possibility. No, this was something else, he decided.

That pumped enough adrenaline into his system to open his eyes, but just by seconds at a time.

First he got blinded by the light, and the second and third and fourth time all he saw was shadows, but by the fifth time one of the shadows -there were two? since when?- stepped right in the way of the streetlight and Dean could see the man and (Y/N), and they were fighting.

(Y/N).

_ (Y/N)?! _

Then he had to blink, but even that was enough time for his brain to come to the conclusion that something was wrong. 

When he could open his eyes again, the image seemed frozen- (Y/N) and the guy, bodies really close to each other, not moving at all under the light and then he blinked, and his eyes were too tired to open again.

A few seconds went be before he heard anything else.

"I know you're awake, Dean," (Y/N) voice soothed, "I know you're fighting it. I'm gonna help you with that, okay?"

And then he somewhat felt her hand against his forehead- And then he felt it really fucking clearly.

He shot up, almost tripping over himself, and he grabbed (Y/N) by the neck and he managed to sound threatening even when he was fucking terrified.

"What did you do?!" He demanded, but she kept quiet, "What the hell did you do?!"

"I saved you," she whispered, and Dean's grip got tighter on her neck. "Dean, he was going to-"

_ "I know damn well what he was going to do," _ he hissed, interrupting, "I want to know  _ why _ you're here!"

"You haven't figured out what they had in common, then," (Y/N) replied, but when she saw his face she regretted it. His hand was firm on her neck and if she had needed to breathe to live, she'd probably be dead by now. "I'm sorry, Dean. I got here as fast as I could."

(Y/N) saw the green orbs go from her eyes to the wall behind her and then back a few times, as Dean's eyes filled with tears.

"Why are you here?" He insisted, voice shaking, "Why  _ you? _ Why  _ here?" _

"Let go of me, Dean," (Y/N) asked, and after thinking about it for a few seconds, he compelled.

He started fixing his clothes immediately, at the same time (Y/N) picked up a bloody knife and shoved in in her purse.

That was what made Dean finally look at where the man was, to find his lifeless body dumped on the floor.

"Get away from here before the police show up. There's a fight going out on front, so you don't have long. I'll contact you if I think you won't try to kill me again."

"Tell me why," he ordered, voice harsh.

"No," she replied simply.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Sitting on the Impala, Dean called Sam.

"Hey, everything okay?"

"Go through the reports again, see if any of them had a history of sexual assault."

"Wh- Okay? I guess, but Dean, nothing I've seen indicates anything like that. And according to our interviews, none of them went through something traumatic! Besides why would (Y/N) target victims of..."

"I'm not saying they were the victims, Sam. Please, just- Can you look into that?"

Realization sank into Sam's bones, heavy as only guilt can be, sucking the words out of him like a black hole.

_ Why would Dean think that?, _ he asked himself, and which one of the answers scared him the most.

Finally, he managed to reply:

"Yes, of course, but- Dean, are you okay? Did something happen?" 

"I'm on my way to the motel, alright? I'll tell you when I get there."

_ Hell no, _ he thought.

"Yeah, alright. Drive safe, okay?" He asked, but it didn't feel like enough, "Me and Cas, we need you."

There was a little hint of desperation on his voice, and it made Dean feel uneasy.

"Sam, I'm fine, okay? No need to get all sappy. I'll see you in ten."

He hung up before he could hear Sam's answer.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

When Dean finished the story, leaning against the cramped table with his third glass of whiskey, Sam stood up from the bed and hugged him.

Dean tensed, and his eyes looked for Cas in a cry for help, but the angel was too focused on the floor to feel his eyes on him.

"Sorry-" choked out Sam after a few seconds, letting go of Dean, "I'm just glad you're okay..." He thought about it for a second, and then asked, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Thanks to (Y/N), weirdly enough," he muttered, taking another sip.

Cas looked at him- there was this worry in his eyes that Dean hated to see, but had failed so many times at fixing that he didn't even try anymore,- and clearing his throat, he said: "If something like this happens again, pray to me. Both of you."

It was issued like an order, but it didn't feel like one. Cas sighed, unsatisfied with his own words, and then stood up.

"I don't want anything to happen to you."

"Thanks, Cas," muttered Dean, who was already feeling the exhaustion from the events catch up with him. "I think I'm gonna shower and head to bed. We can wrap up this case tomorrow."

"Of course," hurried to answer Sam.

When Dean closed the door to the bathroom, Sam sat down on his bed. And when he could hear the shower running, he cried.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"So she's killing rapists. That's what this is about."

"I- I just can't believe it. All she said makes so much sense now. And-..." Sam sighed and stopped talking. A lot was going through his mind, but that didn't mean all of it had to see the light of day.

"What do you want to do?" Asked Cas from the backseat, once he was sure Sam was done. 

Dean looked at him through the rearview mirror mindlessly, but then returned his gaze to the files on his hands.

"I- I don't know," Dean confessed. "I mean- I owe her. I do, but-..."

"There are so many deaths," Sam agreed.

Twenty-eight, with the guy from last night and a ballet teacher that had been found dead that morning on her house. Her time of death was practically the same as the man, which had the police thinking the killers were different people, but they knew better.

Just as they knew (Y/N) wasn't done yet. Twenty-eight  _ and counting. _

So now Dean stared at the police report on the ballet teacher and he did his best not to think of what could have happened to him.

It was  _ hard _ , harder than he'd expected, to look at this sweet-looking woman and see the monster she actually was, (because she  _ was- _ that  _ "sweet face" _ belonged to a child molester,) or to look at all those other people he'd once thought of as victims, and feel the same hatred and disgust he'd felt the previous night.

"This isn't the way," muttered Sam, "this isn't right. We have to stop her."

" _ Can _ we stop her?" Replied Dean, without missing a beat. "Because, so far, she always stays a step ahead of us. And we don't even know just  _ how _ powerful she is."

"So you're saying we should just let her keep going?"

"It's not like we have that many options," Dean said, voice edging sarcasm, "and honestly, these people have it coming."

Cas sighed. "Are we still going to interview the girl?"

Dean nodded. They'd been called to the police station first thing in the morning, so they had had to skip breakfast and were running a little behind schedule- But Alison, the girl they'd seen the day before, had to know something they could use.

"Yeah. We should drop these files off at the motel and then go to her house."

"Wait, Dean, it's Sunday morning," pointed out Sam, "In a town like this, there's a big chance her family is at Mass right now."

"Right. Breakfast, then?"

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"Um, guys?" Dean and Cas looked up from their respective coffees, as Sam went on, "I was reading through what we have on Alison and I found something interesting."

"What did you find?" Asked Cas.

"Remember that I told you she and her stepsister were close? Well, guess who pressed charges against the first of Y/N's kills, and dropped them three days later?"

"The sister?"

"Exactly," Sam confirmed. "Wanna guess charges of  _ what? _ "

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

" _ Sixteen!" _ Exclaimed Dean, "And already selling her soul!  _ Unbelievable!" _

"We don't know if she promised Y/N her soul," tried to argue Sam.

"What else could've it been?"

"I don't think she has much to offer to someone like Y/N," Cas agreed.

"Exactly!"

Sam bitchfaced Dean. "She didn't ask for  _ your _ soul. And didn't she said she did that thing often?"

"Oh, ‘cause she's never lied to us before!"

"Well, actually..." Cas said, "She hasn't."

Dean turned his glare to the angel instead, but Sam stopped them before they could even begin arguing.

"Let's just go and see what she has to say, okay? Maybe she has a better explanation."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"I don't have a better explanation."

Dean turned to glare at his brother, gesture that didn't go unnoticed by the girl.

"Listen, (Y/N) explained to me who you are and what you do, and I think that's super badass and important," she said, firmly, like she wasn't a child standing up to three grown men who could easily kill her, "but there's nothing for you here."

"What do you call thirty dead people, then?" Dean replied, coldly. If she knew who (Y/N) was, and she knew what they did for a living, and she still had no regrets, then she didn't deserve his pity. 

"A fucking shock, for starters," she snapped back immediately, "I thought it'd be two or three. Five, tops. But she says there's eleven left, now nine, according to what you told me, and I just feel so-...  _ Disappointed _ , on people. I mean, even Bert- I don't think she should stop," Alison declared. "I think she should finish what she started."

"And that doesn't strike you as odd, how comfortable you are with dozens of people dying?" Sam asked pointedly.

"Not when those people are rapists," she replied. The word seemed to get her agitated, or maybe it was the incessant judging, but she slammed her hand on the table and used the other one to point a finger at them. "How many times have you held a friend while she cried after being raped?  _ Uh!? _ Because I'm only sixteen and I've been there twice already. Every single woman I know has a friend, or a coworker, or a relative that has gone through that, if not themselves.  _ Every single one _ ." Sam swallowed hard, but even when Alison knew she had made her point, she couldn't stop now. "So _ no it doesn't fucking strike me as odd _ . Actually, I think is good riddance. I hope they all burn in hell for the rest of eternity." Alison stood up and pointed at the door. "Now get the fuck out of my house, my family is mourning."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"You  _ wanted  _ us to come?" Dean repeated, "Why? We could have killed you!"

"No, you really couldn't. And of course I did.  _ Someone _ was going to come, and all things considered I'm better off with you three here, over any other hunter."

"Because you already knew you can manipulate us," Sam said through gritted teeth, furious. He had been right all along in not trusting her. He'd been right, and he hated her for ever making him question it.

"Because you are the only ones who would make sure you're shooting the actual bad guy. Which is  _ not _ me." (Y/N) sighed loudly, and flipped her hair, "Can you blame me? I wanted the best hunters working my case."

"No, no, don't try that shit on us. You  **(accusations)."**

"Uhm, rude." Her voice was as obnoxious as it had always been, but Sam found it unbearable. "And that's not it, either," she added, barely softer, "I've heard about you. Do you have an idea of how often do you find  _ one single _ hunter who sees shades of grey, let alone  _ three _ ?" Sam swallowed. Her words felt flattering; too soft and too warm to be coming from her, and it made him feel uneasy at the same time it made him feel good about himself. "Someone was going to come," she repeated, "and I made sure it would be you. Die mad about it."

And just like that, the softness disappeared, and he was left again with nothing but anger.

  
  



	19. song fic - new rules

"Uh, guys?" You called, turning off your phone's screen. Sam looked at you, confused by your sad tone. "I need you to do me a favor. A big one."

The brothers traded looks.

"What is it?" Asked Dean, worried.

.

You got up as soon as the first knock was heard in the door. You rushed past Sam, getting to the stairs first and climbing them as fast as you could. 

Behind the door, two girls were standing, carrying two bags each one.

"Y/N!" Greeted a tall blonde when the door was completely open. She hugged you, excited, and then she gave a step back to look at you. "How long it's been? Two years?"

You tried to say something but the other girl interrupted you with another hug. Her short black hair waved with the warm breeze that entered through the door. You made space for them to walk inside and closed the door after.

"I've missed you so much," you said, smiling, but then your expression changed to a much concerned one. "Where is she?"

"She fell asleep in the car. We didn't wanted to wake her, so..."

"No, of course." You interrupted. "She needs to rest. Sam, would you help me carry her to her room?" Your best friend nodded. "This is Sam, and Dean is in the kitchen, you'll meet him later. Sam, these are Tami," The blonde smiled, shaking his hand. "And Jess."

His eyes went wide for a millisecond, just long enough for you to notice.

"Nice to meet you." He said, smiling. Just a surprise, then. Nothing to worry about.

Jess handed you her car keys and you started walking, Sam right behind you.

When you walked back inside the bunker, Sam was holding a redheaded girl in bridal style. You two had managed to bring her inside without waking her up, but suddenly her phone started ringing and she almost jumped out of Sam's arms.

"Sean." She mumbled, pulling her phone out of her jacket. Just when Sam left her on her feet you could appreciate how bad she was. She had lost weight, a lot of weight. It broke your heart seeing one of your closest friends looking so pale, sick and tired.

When she tried to pick up the phone call you unfroze.

"Don't even think about it, Sophia." You said, stealing the device from her hands. She tried to argue, but then she recognized you and ignoring the confusion she felt, she hugged you with all her strength, which wasn't that much.

"It's so nice to see you again," she muttered. "Sorry it had to be like this."

"Don't worry about it. Always there when you need me."

She froze and closed her eyes, grabbing firmly your arm.

"Soph, are you okay?" Asked Tami, jumping at her side instantly. She nodded, trying to smile.

"Jess and I are going to get you something to eat and then you're going to take a nap, alright?" You said.

Sophia opened her eyes with a tired expression on her face.

"I'm not really hungry."

You traded looks with your friends before continuing.

"Eat something anyways, okay? For me."

Staring at the floor, she sighed. Good enough for you.

_______________________________________

"WHAT is this place?" Nearly shouted Jess when you were in the kitchen. 

Surprisingly, Dean wasn't there. His half-eaten pie was, so you knew he would come back.

"We call it the bunker. It's their legacy," You explained. "I can't tell you much more, I'm sorry."

None of your friends knew about your profession, but you had managed to never lie to them. They didn't pressured you about it- They didn't need to know. As long as you were happy and safe, nothing else mattered.

"Tell me the truth; You work for the CIA, don't you?" She joked. You couldn't help but to laugh.

"Not even close," said Dean, coming out of nowhere. You both jumped a little. "I'm Dean."

"I'm Jess."

The green-eyed men looked at you, slightly shocked.

"I know. I should've warned you guys."

"What are you talking about?" Asked your friend. Before giving her a response, you glimpsed at Dean, asking for permission. Instead of answering you, he started talking.

"Jess was Sam's old girlfriend. She passed away." The brunette covered her mouth with her hands, in shock. She tried to speak, but she didn't made a sound. "But it was many years ago, don't worry. He'll be fine."

"Oh... Okay."

"Now, you need to tell me what happened." You continued, moving on from the subject. "Who the fuck is Sean?"

Dean sat on his chair and continued to eat his pie, trying not to bother you two.

"Is a shit lord she's been seeing this past months."

"How long?"

"Seven months, maybe? I don't remember exactly. She fell for him hard, but he doesn't care about her. He dumps her every once in a while, breaks her heart, and then he calls her like nothing happened and she crawls back to him." You nodded along, making a list of things that needed to change.

"What happened now?"

"She found him cheating on her, and she broke up with him, but he's been trying to contact her."

"What a dick." Commented Dean, mouth full.

"Swallow before you talk." You ordered, rolling your eyes. "She left him?"

"Yes."

"Good. We can work with that."

"Really?" She questioned.

"Of course. She'll be over him in no time." You assured.

"Great." She replied, before looking into your eyes to continue. "Thank you so much for letting us stay here. Sorry for coming out of nowhere, too."

"Hey, anything for you.

  
  



	20. diamond blood

“Since this episode is centered in Castiel and Jack,” Richard started, now directed towards Jared and Jensen, “we were thinking of shooting all the scenes that just require Misha and Alex at once, and that way we can get you a few days off.”

“Yeah,” continued Singer, “and that includes you, (Y/N). You only have scenes with Sam and Dean left, so you have to be here at the same time.”

“The other option would be to mix them so you'd get more time off between takes,” added Rich, mindlessly scratching his beard, “it's up to you, really, as long as the weather doesn't act up it won't make much of a difference.”

“But you two and (Y/N) gotta decide now so we can set up the schedule.”

They both knew what the other one wanted before even looking at each other. Day off, definitely. But (Y/N) would probably prefer the time off between takes, knowing her. So they'd have to either convince her, or spend who knows how long inside their trailers.

My phone started ringing, making a small blush creep into my face.

I reached to turn it off, but the name on the screen made me frown deeply enough for Robert to notice.

“Everything okay, (Y/N)?”

“I really need to take this, I'm sorry,” I replied, and he nodded in response. I left the conference room feeling everybody's eyes on me.

Normally, I'm the 'uneventful’ one. I don't get mysterious phone calls in the middle of a meeting.

Thinking exactly the same thing, Jared and Jensen traded looks. There was no real reason to be concerned, but the look of confusion in (Y/N)'s face got them both wondering. 

Even Misha, who tried not to overstep his boundaries when it came to other people’s privacy, shot them a small questioning glance.

Since they still needed her response, they waited.

I walked back inside with my phone still on my hand. Everyone turned to look at me again, but only Rich spoke, “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” I said, and then added calmly, “my father just died.”

The deadly silence that settled in only lasted a couple of seconds before I was being flooded with supportive comments.

“I'm very sorry for your loss”, “Are you okay?”, “Do you need a glass of water?”, and plenty more that got drowned by the noise before I could make out the words.

“I'm fine,” I assured, with the most chill voice tone I could master. And it was the truth. I was fine. No one seemed to get that, though.

“Listen, if there's something you need-...” Started Jared, but Jensen continued to speak over him.

“Or if there's anything we can do, just let us know, okay?”

“Guys, it's fine.”

“I can't imagine what you must be going through-...”

I realized that they weren't going to understand that  _ I didn't care, _ without me having to explain my very shitty father-daughter relationship (which I didn't intend to do) so I just let them go on.

Ruth and Samantha got up and walked me to my seat, and I didn't even bother in trying to stop them.

Once I was sitting again, and with a magically appeared glass of water, one of the directors that had just joined this season asked, “So, how does this leave us for filming?”

_ Thank God. _

“I have to fly back home to handle the paperwork and then everything can go on as planned,” I replied.

“(Y/N), you shouldn't push yourself like that,” said Misha, tentatively. Plenty of people in the room nodded in agreement. “You need time to process what happened, and no one here will mind filming earlier to cover for you...”

“I'm fine, really.” Misha looked over at Richard, and just like most people were doing, they frowned. “I'm going to use my days off to get this done and I'll be back on set on two days tops- ...If that works for everyone.”

“Absolutely. Take all the time you need,” assured Richard. 

The meeting was done pretty soon after.

I got plenty more of good wishes and a few people told me they were praying for me- I'm not religious myself, but the gesture warmed my heart.

Sadly, a warm heart wasn't going to be useful right now.

Flying back home meant staying for at least one day there, surrounded by my family, and putting up with all their bullshit. 

God.

“(Y/N)?”

I turned to face Jared, who smiled kindly at me before starting to fidget with his hands. Jensen, standing by his side, noticed and put his hand on his shoulder to calm him down.

“Yes?”

“We talked with Rich, and we all agree that flying on your own right now is a bad idea-”

Oh,  _ come on _ .

“What do you mean?”

“You shouldn't be going through all of this alone. And, well, we thought that since we're also free now...”

“You want to come with me,” I finished for him. They nodded. “Why'd you waste your days off in going to my father's last will reading?”

“It's not a waste,” Jared corrected me. He looked over at Jensen before adding, “We just think that being alone is going to be bad for you, especially now.”

If I turned them down, they'd spend these days worried about me, but if they came with me, they'd have to put up with my family. Pick your poison, I guess. 

At least, if they came with me, they'd realize why I never talk about my family, and why I'm not sad that my father's dead. And if they were on my side, I wouldn't have to put on a ‘grieving girl’ act.

“Alright.” Their expressions didn't do much to hide the surprise they felt. If I was being honest, I was kinda surprised too. “I'm leaving first thing tomorrow, and hopefully returning Thursday's morning. The reading is formal, so if you want to come with me you'll need suits. Oh, and... Don't worry about booking a hotel, I'll handle that.”

“Where are we going?”

“Manhattan.”

..................................

"Listen," I started as Clif got closer to the hotel we'd be staying at, "there's something you need to know. About me."

"Yes?" Jared smiled, encouraging.

"You know me as (Y/N) (Y/L/N)," I said, and I looked out of the window to avoid seeing their reactions, "but (Y/L/N) was my mother's name. My father was Edward Harrington."

I turned to look at them after a second. Jared was frowning deeply, and Jensen's mouth was hanging open.

" _ The _ Edward Harrington?"

"From the Harrington Hotels?" Insisted Jared, and then his eyes went wide he made the connection. "That's why you said you'd-... Holy shit!"

"Yeah, anyways... It's a secret in the industry and I want to keep it that way, but I told you because you will realize that the suite is under my other name, and some employees might know who I am. So-" I took a deep breath, "now you know."

"Wow. I mean, just...  _ Wow." _

"Very eloquent, Jensen. Anything you want to ask me?"

The bitchiness immediately followed by the cordiality made Jensen's head spin. Was he supposed to be offended? Or just ignore it?

"I have a question, but it's kinda personal," warned Jared.

"You want to know why I keep it a secret?" I guessed. He nodded, shrugging. I couldn't really blame him, to be honest. "I get it. It sounds so cliche, doesn't it? Poor little rich girl feels lonely because of her money so she pretends she doesn't have it. She starts a new life and discovers that true wealth is the friends you made along the way. I'd fit that if I weren't such a bitch."

Jared snorted, earning a kick from Jensen.

"Look, I know I'm not that great of an actress, you know? Me getting this role was 70 percent luck. But you know what would happen if people were to find out that my family's loaded?"

Their eyes met for a second, knowingly.

"The rumors would kill whatever career I have. That, and the fact that some producers would actually expect me to pay my way into the job. Or that I would never make a friend in the industry. It's... A lot, just for a fucking last name I don't even want."

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“(Y/N)? Wow, I didn’t thought I'd see you here,” smiled condescendingly my step sister, walking towards me and the guys, “And since when do you have bodyguards?”

“Mackenzie, these are Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles, friends of mine. They came to support me,” I explained, “but we won’t be able to make it to the funeral, sadly,” I lied. She saw right though it but I didn’t care. Her eyes squinted a little, analyzing my clothes. Her fake lashes made her poisonous stare pop out and her highlighter was perfectly applied to flatter her face and skin tone. “We have to be back on set as soon as possible. I just came to sign the will.”

“So considerate,” she spat, keeping her expression calm. She got closer and started to fix my jacket- Even when it was already perfect. “It’s a shame. I’m sure everyone will be dying to hear about that little acting job of yours...”

My eyes hardened and she took a step back- Not surrendering, but knowing when not to push. She took her manicured hand to her mouth, seductively, and moved her attention towards Jensen.

“Ackles, you said?” She smirked, and I prayed that he wouldn’t coward down. “Where have I heard that name before?”

_ I think the fuck not _ .

“Keep your claws off, he’s married,” I warned, and I thought I heard him swallow.

She raised her eyebrows, entertained, “I don’t see any wives around. Unless...” Her voice tone finished the question for her.

“Marrying someone twice my age is more your type of move than it is mine, don’t you think?”

She inhaled sharply, and then let out a chuckle.

“I don't know why you left,” She said, ignoring my comment, “you belong here, obviously.”

“Trust me,  _ I don't _ .”

And with that, I started walking away, barely resisting the temptation to bump my shoulder against hers.

I heard the boys coming after me, and elegantly I lead them away towards the kitchen- The only place in the house where we wouldn't be interrupted.

“Wow, that was so-”

“Bitchy?” I guessed.

Jared blushed. “I was gonna say rude.”

I huffed, entertained.

“Yeah, and she's not even the worst of it. Wait until you met her mother.”

“I thought she was your sister,” questioned Jensen.

“Stepsister, actually. It's a long story. Listen,” I started, “I can't imagine how uncomfortable you must be. I'm used to this crap, but if you want to leave, I totally get it. I can do this on my own, you don't need to worry about me.”

“We’re already here, (Y/N), and we're not going anywhere,” assured Jensen.

“Yeah! You think this is the first time someone looks down on us?” I laughed- _ of course not. _ “We're not going to abandon you now.”

“Thanks. Let me know if you change your mind.”

In that exact moment, two maids and a cook walked into the kitchen, and I recognized them all.

“What can I do for you, Miss?” Asked the oldest maid, a dark skinned woman with just a few gray hairs.

“They're my friends, Sal, don't worry about them,” I said, and she dropped the act immediately.

“(Y/N), It's been so long! Look at you!” She exclaimed, leaving the tray she had in her hands to hug me, “We didn't think you'd show up, we don't have your room ready!”

“Oh, no, don't worry about that- I'm not staying here.” She nodded, understanding, and then her attention went to my companions. “Hold on, these are the boys you work with, right? Sam and Dean?”

They let out a small laugh, and then proceeded to shake her hand.

“They're Jared and Jensen, actually; Guys, these are Sally, Alicia and Carrie,” I introduced, “they offered to come with me to the reading.”

“That's nice,” commented Alicia, before walking up to me for a hug, “how've you been? Enjoying Canada?”

“It's good, yeah. I like it.”

Carrie turned off the oven and hugged me too. 

“You've been missed,” she assured, before moving on to Jared and Jensen, “it's a pleasure to meet you. I really enjoy your work.”

Wait a second.

“Well, thanks,” smiled Jared, shaking her hand.

“I'm glad you like it.”

“You promised you wouldn't watch it!” I reclaimed, fake offended.

“Yeah, we lied,” shrugged Alicia.

I laughed softly, relaxing a little bit. I couldn't let my guard down yet, because this was far from over.

“Jane is looking for you, by the way.”

“Fuck.”

"Language."

“Who's Jane?” Asked Jensen, frowning.

“The third wife,” I said, and tried to get to the door. Alicia stepped in my way.

“Wait, just one sec.” Her hands carefully fixed my jacket, and once she was satisfied with her work, she took a step aside. “Now, perfect. Good luck.”

“Thanks. Do you want to come with me,” I asked the boys, “or would you prefer to hang out here?”

They traded looks for one second, and then turned to face me again.

“We're going.”

I nodded and opened the door.

“Good luck,” wished Sally behind us.

.......................................

“(Y/N)? Wow, darling, I haven't seen you in ages,” smiled Jane as soon as I stepped into the library, “and who might these two handsome gentlemen be?”

“Hello, Jane,” I said, ignoring her raised eyebrow. “These are Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki.”

They took that as their cue to speak.

“Hi, ma'am.”

“We're very sorry for your loss,” added Jared, and she immediately put on a sad face.

“Thanks, dear. We're all very affected,” she assured, her perfect hair and makeup saying otherwise. She was in her mid thirties, making the age gap between her and my father around forty years. She was also the one to be married to him before he passed- Making her the official widow. “But to be honest, I'm surprised to see you here,” She added, directed towards me.

“The lawyer strongly advised me to come, Jane, I know I'm not wanted.”

“Oh, don't say that!” The  _ only _ two reasons why she was arguing with that statement were standing at my sides. “I know you and your dad had a big fight, but you've always been his favorite.”

“He had a funny way of showing that. How are the twins?” I added, before she could reply.

As I expected, she didn't miss the chance to brag.

“ _ Very _ well, thanks for asking. They just got accepted into a boarding school in the UK. Very exclusive.”

“Congratulations,” I smiled, “If we're done here, I'd like to pick some stuff up from my old room if you don't mind. There isn't much I care about there, so you can throw away the rest of you want.”

“I would never, (Y/N). Even if we're not related, you are like family to me. You'll always have a place here.”

_ She's gonna set that room on fire the second I put a foot out of this house. _

“Thanks, Jane. Now if that's all...”

“Actually,” she stopped me, “there's something else.” Suddenly remembering her husband just died and she's supposed to be sad about it, she continued, “I know this is a bad time, but since I don't know when I'm going to see you after this...”

“Yes?”

She sighed.

“Your father left you some part of the company,” She said, “I'm not sure how much, of course, but I know he did. Now I know you are not interested in that, so if you decide to sell it, I would be interested in buying your part.”

_ My _ part? Fat chance.

But, even if he had left me anything, I wouldn't want to keep it. Absolutely not. But- Do I want to sell it to  _ her _ ? Also no. Fuck.

“I'll think about it.”

“Great.”

“Why are you so sure about that?”

“Why? Oh, well, he did mention it once. Didn't go into details, but...”

“Uh. I see.” She nodded, but I just stared at her. “I'm going to go now, I'm sure you want a moment alone. I'll see you at the reading?”

“Of course.”

We left the library calmly, but once the door was closed I rushed Jared and Jensen towards my old room.

“(Y/N), are you okay?”

“Uh? Yeah, yeah... 'M fine.” I started pacing, unconsciously. The bedroom was exactly what I remembered, but that wasn't a good thing. Memories of feeling empty and hopeless came from every corner, but there wasn't another place to think in silence.

“(Y/N)?”

“Fuck.”

“Are you sure you're okay?”

“No, I'm fine, I'm just thinking.”

“Is this about what she said? About the company?”

“Yeah. He said- He swore, on my mother's grave, that if I left I'd no longer be his daughter. This is- Fuck, this is wrong. There's something wrong here.”

“He said that to you? Wh- I'm so sorry, (Y/N)-”

“No, it's fine. He was a dick, I don't care. But this- He might have been a dick, but he kept his word. He wouldn't change his mind like this. And even if he did, he wouldn't tell  _ Jane _ about it.”

“Well, they're  _ married _ ...”

“On paper. They got a divorce, she got a bunch of money, he married again twice before she ran out of money and came up with  _ something- _ I don't know what, to force him to marry her again. He hated her, and-” I stopped talking suddenly. Everything clicked. “Oh my God, that's it.”

“What's it? (Y/N)?”

“She must have falsified the will. That's the only explanation.”

“Woah, (Y/N), wait. That's kind of a rushed conclusion, don't you think?”

I ignored them.

“But she knows I can't stand her, why'd she give  _ me..? _ Cause I don't want it.  _ Fuck _ . Of course.”

“Okay, let's say you're right. What are you going to do?”

“What? Nothing, I'm not stupid. Not yet, at least. I have to think.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Hello, Misha.”

“Hi, guys. I got what you wanted.”

....

“Is he okay?” Misha asked, looking at Jensen.

“Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine.”

“You can tell him, I don't mind.”

_ “Thank God _ ! Misha man you're not gonna believe this, this past two days have been more intense than my entire career I swear to God-”

“What? Why?”

“Her dad- I mean, his lawyer, and her stepmom, they're- Jesus Christ this is like a soap opera...”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Dickson.”

“Miss (Y/N), isn't this a surprise?”

“Is it, really?”

The man laughed, a shark-like smile showing.

“I suppose you're here to hear Jane's offer?”

“You're close, but not quite.” His grin disappeared, and I continued. “Such a shame that Elena and the others didn't get anything of the company, right?”

“They got houses, and a generous amount of money too, I'd say they're going to be alright...”

“Of course, since they're exes they weren't expecting much either. But not even for Mackenzie?” I exaggerated, “Now  _ that _ was a shock!”

He sighed, tired.

“What are you implying?”

“You and Jane replaced the original will with that piece of crap you call an imitation.”

“I would never. Your father and I-”

“Were not as close as you think, Ronald.”

“...What?”

“You know of our fight, right?” He swallowed hard. “You know what was said, and you know what was promised. There was nothing meant for me in that will and you know it.”

“He obviously changed his mind. You know what they say about deathbeds. People tend to make amends.”

“Whoever says that hasn't met Mr. Harrington, Ronnie, and we both know that.”

“I-!”

“What you  _ don't _ know, though, is that there weren't any amends to be done.”

“ _ What?” _

“We put our differences aside a long time ago.”

“Then how come I never heard of that?”

“But you did! I mean, I'm sure he showed you the invitation to the CW party. Last year, remember?”

“He didn't go.”

“ _ Yeah _ , I believe that's what he told everyone...”

“What are you saying?”

“With the invitation came a note. He didn't show you that, right?” He kept silent. “I knew he wasn't going to take back his words and he knew he was sick.

"I told him that, if he came, I would keep it a secret. And he  _ agreed _ .”

He slammed his fist on the desk.

“Bullshit.”

“I'm his oldest, Ronald, pull your head out of your ass.” His fingers uncurled, hesitatingly. “I'm the one he prepared to run the company; not Mackenzie, not Jane,  _ me _ . Do you think he was willing to throw all that work away?

"We met and he agreed to put me in his will as long as I quit acting as soon as he died. I know for a fact, that he left 80 percent of the company to me.”

“ _ Eig-? _ No, (Y/N), you're talking nonsense. The will said-”

“Did you read it?” 

He froze.

“We all did. At the reading. And-  _ Of course, _ I was Mr Harrington's lawyer, I helped him redact it.”

“Come on, Ron, we're past this. You didn't read the actual document, you assumed it hadn't been changed since you last saw it and swapped it with Jane's version. Am I wrong?”

“Very much so, Miss (Y/N). What you're accusing me of is something very serious.”

He won't confess. He just won't, he's not dumb enough.

“ _ Maybe _ . But I'll tell you what: I still don't want that fucking company. But I am not selling it to  _ her _ .”

Greed flickered in his eyes.

“Then..?”

“Nothing.  _ Yet _ , at least. ‘Cause according to the will  _ you _ wrote, I got twenty seven percent. And that's a damn pity, because I need to make a living.” He frowned, confused. “What? Dad was right, acting is not a job. I need this company. If I had my eighty, though, I'd had to get rid of at least half of it, not to mention that I would have to give it to someone trustworthy, someone who knew this company and my family, like... Like you. Funny, isn't it?”

"(Y/N)..."

"If you accuse her first, she wouldn't be able to put any blame on you, y'know? And I'd be your alliby. But if you don't want to, then this conversation is over."

"Why-? What would you win, with that?"

"It's not about me winning, it's about her losing."

  
  
  
  



	21. fatherly bond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm actually pretty proud of this one! I hope you enjoy it!

So, Plan A was never ever, under any circumstances whatsoever, met the man and pretend she didn’t know who he was or where she could find him: Forget he even existed and move one with her life.

Plan B, was popping up on his doorstep. It was kinda risky, him being a hunter and all that. Plan C, write him a letter- Very mature, very adult, very unlike her. Plan D, have her mom talk to him first. That one made her feel like a seven year old. 

Most of her life she had sticked with Plan A. At first, because she didn’t had to  _ pretend _ that she didn’t know where or how to find him- because she truly didn't. Then, because she was just sixteen and she had already gone so long without a father of her own, and well,  _ yeah _ , meeting him was scary, but she also had a little sister to take care of, and if the dude ended up being dangerous, she couldn’t be responsible for bringing him into her life. That reason earned relevance after her mom left: The only survivor of a pack of werewolves, that had been after her family since before Bijou was even born, finally catched up with her and got his revenge, killing the man her mom was in love with. She broke after that. Bijou didn’t blame her for leaving. 

She buried her stepdad in the same cemetery as her grandparents and buried her father on the deepest corner of her mind. Her sister was more important.

But now, Grace was going off to college, (with a amazing scholarship, thanks to archery) and Bijou found herself at a loss for excuses.

And there she was, toying with the piece of paper where her mom had written Bobby Singer’s address.

So, Plan A had failed. 

Plan B was nearly suicidal. And probably very embarrassing. 

She wasn’t even sure she knew how to send a letter. 

And she was definitely  _ not _ sending in her mom.

She could swear she heard Grace’s voice.  _ If the plan doesn’t work, change the plan, not the goal.  _

That brat had  _ absolutely no right _ to be right all the time.

She put her hands on her knees, decided to stop fidgeting. With her resources, those were all her options. If none of the options were ideal, she’d need new ones. How do you get more options? Find new resources.

She picked her phone up.

\----------------------------------------------------

“What was all that about?” Asked Sam, equally confused and interested.

“Bobby needs us,” Dean replied, starting to reunite his stuff and shoving it into his bag.

“What? Is he okay?”

“Yeah, he-” Dean froze, the weirdness of the situation finally catching up to him, “He got a call from a girl saying she was his daughter.”

Sam stared at him, mouth gaping. He shut his laptop closed, and after putting it on top of his own bag, he asked, “Does it check out?”

“All I know, Sammy, is that Bobby’s freaking out. You can research her in the car, we gotta get there before he shoots her.”

“I thought she called,” noted Sam.

“Well, yeah, but apparently, she’s coming for a visit.”

Sam's phone notified the arrival of a new message.

“It's Bobby,” he informed. “He sent me what he has on the girl.”

“What's her name?”

“Bijou Hopkins.”

“What kinda name is  _ Bijou _ ?”

\----------------------------------------------------

Okay,  _ fuck _ . 

Fucking fuckety fuck.

This was a mistake. The worst idea I’ve had in my entire life. By far, hands down, completely and undoubtedly  _ the worst _ .

Yet here I was, walking to the door. It wasn’t too late, I could still turn around and don’t stop driving till I'm Las Vegas. I took another step. If I hurried, I could even get at least a few states away before sundown. I made my way to the porch. I could still get the fuck away. I still could.

But I didn’t. And, hopefully, I wouldn’t regret that decision later.

I breathed in all the air I could fit into my lungs, and I knocked on the door as I let it back out.

Here we go.

I heard some noise inside, like something being dropped, and then steps. Somebody made their way to the door, and opened it after a second of hesitation.

“Hi,” I tried to smile. The guy who had opened the door seemed to be around my age, maybe older, but absolutely not enough to be who I was looking for. It was pretty obvious that he was holding a gun on the hand hidden behind the door, so this had to be the house. Or, who knows, maybe this is just a very bad neighbourhood. However. “I’m looking for Bobby Singer?” I tried, after he just stared at me in silence.

“Are you her?” He asked.  _ ‘Her’? _ Well, he’s obviously heard of me. Or maybe he’s waiting for someone..? No, that’d make no sense. But replying ‘yes’ felt a little too daring.

“I guess so..?” I said. God, this is so weird. He narrowed his eyes, and the gesture grabbed my attention long enough to notice how  _ pretty _ he was. I would never say it out loud, since in my experience boys don’t take that compliment too well, but he had shiny eyes and long eyelashes and little freckles and I was tempted to ask him to model for me someday. “Maybe I should come back later-”

“No, no, come on in,” He stopped me, opening the door as he hurried to shove the gun in the back of his jeans. “Bobby will be here soon. Can I offer you a glass of water?”

“Sure,” I smiled, stepping in. I walked through the salt line at the door without any problem -unsurprisingly- and I could have sworn I heard him hum in approval. “My name’s Bijou, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

“Bijou...” He repeated, slowly. He signaled for me to follow him to the living room. “I’m Dean Winchester.”

Winchester. I’ve heard of him. 

...I  _ think  _ I’ve heard of him. 

Have I heard of him?

I haven’t really been up to date with the hunting world in years. He went into the kitchen and I waited, taking in the room around me.

Messy was an understatement. It was complete chaos. However, the person living there knew exactly where was what, because even as disordered as it looked, there was no sign of anyone ever digging through any of the books, papers and boxes. What I did notice, though, was just a barely noticeable spectre of dust, wherever the room felt too empty. 

Someone had been cleaning very recently. I tried hard not to think it was because of me, but since I couldn’t come up with something else to explain it, I allowed myself to feel flattered.

Dean came back carrying a glass of water, and after he handed it to me I stared at the liquid.

“Something wrong?”

“If you want to make sure I’m human, you could always just ask... You know that, right?”

His eyebrows shot up for a fraction of a second before he could try to hide his surprise.

“You know about hunting?”

I nodded, making an effort not to be insulted by his voice tone. It would be unfair to blame him for assuming I’m a civilian- Especially since I’ve been trying to look like one my entire life. 

“Yeah... I guess I should have mentioned it sooner.”

Dean huffed some sort of agreeing sound, and I took a few sips of the  _ obviously holy water _ that he’d handed me.

“Do you mind if I do some other tests?” He asked, but there wasn’t really room to refuse.

“Knock yourself out.”

Dean asked me to hold some silver and then asked me to make a small cut on my arm to show him that I bleed.

I spent most of the time in silence, and Dean did too. Just after he was satisfied, he explained.

“Bobby’s outside with my brother Sam, wanna go meet him?”

Okay,  _ fuck _ .

I took a deep, shaky breath. I’ve already pushed past this anxiety, and I kicked it in the ass, I’ll be damned if I let it win this time.

_ Fucking fuckety fuck _ .

Dean didn’t push it, and I wish I could have thanked him for that. Too bad I could barely see straight. He must have seen the panic in my face, because he softened his expression and waited until I nodded to start walking.

“He’s a good man,” Dean assured me the second he put his hand on the door handle, “you don’t have to be nervous.”

I tried to think of a response but I couldn’t, so I just nodded. Dean opened the door, and for a second, all I could think about was the sun blinding me.

Then I saw two silhouettes in the distance, leaning against an old car, and my stomach dropped.

“Oh, God.”

“Hey, it’ll be fine,” said Dean, before shouting to grab their attention.

Both silhouettes were men, I realized, who were talking almost casually until they saw us. 

I could tell exactly when they made eye contact with me, even when they were pretty far, because both of them stood up and started making their way towards where I was standing.

I followed Dean off the porch, and in the seconds it took them to get to us, I focused on the warmth of the sun on my face. _Whatever happens today, the sun will still come out tomorrow._ _I will be fine._

“Hey,” greeted one of the newcomers. Based on his age, he must be Dean's brother. “I'm Sam, nice to meet you.”

He extended his hand towards me and I managed to shake it somewhat firmly. 

My attention went then to the one who had to be Bobby. He was barely meeting my eyes, and half of his face was hiding under the shadow of his hat.

“I'm Bijou, nice to meet you too.”

_ Okay, breathe, _ I told myself. _ See? We're cool. Everything's fine. _

Once I stopped shaking hands with Sam, I extended mine to Bobby.

He took it almost immediately.

“That’s a pretty name,” he muttered, and I smiled gratefully, “I'm Bobby.”

“Hi,” I said weakly, or, at least,  _ weaker _ than I intended. “Sorry for the short notice.”

“No, it's... It's fine.”

Dean decided to lend a hand and suggested we go inside.

I noticed both Bobby and Sam staring at me, analyzing me. At least Dean had already-  _ Oh _ , nope, nevermind. He was also looking at me.

There was a newfound curiosity- It had been there since he opened the door, but now, it was different. Those first moments, he was analyzing a possible threat. Now, he was looking at a woman. 

If I weren't so used to that, I’d be pretty uncomfortable. Same situation when people stare at my unshaved legs, just like the three of them did at some point.

Sam, the last person to enter the house, closed the door, and the awkwardness settled in for good.

“I- I forgot something in the car,” said Dean, stammering. “Sammy, come give me a hand.”

“Absolutely.”

And two seconds later, they were out of the house.

“That was...  _ smooth. _ ”

He smiled for a second, and I took a deep breath. This could be worse.

“So... How’s Sara?” Bobby asked.

I let out an humorless laugh. “I have no clue, to be honest.” Bobby shot me a questioning glance, confused by my ambiguity. “I haven’t seen her in a few years.”

That didn’t really add up to his math, apparently. “How old are you?”

“Twenty one next month.”

“Then how..?” 

“She abandoned me when I was sixteen,” I deadpanned. Which, in retrospective, might have not been the best way of saying that. I realized that the second my words reached Bobby. “It’s fine, though. Like,  _ it’s not _ , but I get it. Kind of.”

“That’s-...” Bobby tried, and failed, to comfort me.

“Hey, it's okay. I made it though, you know? And I turned out just fine. There’s no need to feel sorry.”

He blinked, one, two times. “Alright then.”

“For whatever's worth, she said nice things about you.”

His eyebrows raised, curiosity written all over his face.

“Yeah?”

“She never told you about me because you couldn't quit the life, said too many people depended on you and it'd be selfish to ask for that.”

“Oh.”

He turned around, searching through one of the libraries for who knows what- And coincidentally, avoiding my eyes.

“I know you didn't ask, but I assumed you wanted to know. Sorry if I-”

“No, you were right. I... I just didn't know how to.”

“Do you have any kids?” I asked, in a sudden wave of courage. “Besides me.”

“No. I never-...” He looked at me, for a second meeting my eyes, and then redirecting it to the floor. “I was married once, but she passed.”

“I'm sorry. Was it..?”

“Demon possession.”

“God, that's awful. I'm so sorry.” He nodded, eyes still fixated on the floor.  _ Shit! Change the subject, change the subject... _ “So Dean and Sam, they're just hunting buddies?”

The look on his face told me that I had nailed it with that question. 

“Well, their father was. I've known them since they were kids, they're almost...”

Bobby sighed, strategically stopping his sentence before he could say anything too awkward.

“They're family,” I said, and he nodded. “Do they live with you?”

“No, they're just visiting.”

“Backup?” I chirped in.

He shook his head as he laughed, a little embarrassed.

“Yeah." I smiled back. This could be  _ so much  _ worse. 

“Do you think they'll come back or have they already left the state?”

He laughed again, and my smile got wider. He liked me- So far, at least. 

“I'm gonna have to go get them, but they wouldn't leave.”

Just as I thought of what to say next, the phone rang.  _ One _ of the phones, but I didn't know that yet.

He looked at me, but I didn't let him get a word out.

“I'll wait here, don't worry.”

He nodded a thanks, but he hesitated when he remembered the bandage on my knee.

“Take a seat, please, i-  _ If you want, _ I mean, you can do whatever you want-...”

I sat promptly on the couch, successfully stopping his babbling. He left towards the kitchen, and I distracted myself on Twitter.

I could hear him talking, harshly, but I did an effort not to eavesdrop.

When he came back, I smiled and put my phone down.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, just... Some buddies of mine needin' a hand.”

“Is everything alright for them, then?”

“It should be.”

“Great,” I smiled. 

“What happened to your knee?”

“Nothing really, it's just to cover my tattoo,” I explained, pushing it down enough so that the pentagram could be seen. “I can't really go explaining that,  _ no, I'm not a Satanist, I just don't want to get possessed _ , you know?”

He laughed, for real this time, instead of the huffed nonsense I was getting before, and I smiled widely.

"How long are you staying?" He asked, just out of innocent curiosity.

"I'm not sure yet, I still have to find a motel and all that, but-" When I saw his expression, my tongue tangled on itself and the words stopped coming out. "What?"

He blinked, confused.

"Sorry, I just... Assumed you'd be staying here."

Oh.  _ Oh. _

Was that an invitation?

"I don't want to overstep my welcome," I said.

"You wouldn't be, I promise." His soft smile disappeared as he shrugged, adding, "I mean, if you want, of course."

"I'd like that, but are you sure it's not a problem?"

"Course not. I have two extra bedrooms, and the boys always sleep together on the same one, it's no big deal."

I smiled, nodding. "Then I guess it's fine. I'd like to stay here, but I can't stay long either way," I warned.

"Previous commitment?" He asked, hiding his disappointment.

"Yeah- I need to be home by next Saturday."

"That leaves us an entire week, then," he said, "how long does it take you to get there?"

"About two hours... I live pretty close."

"That means you'll be visiting, then?"

"As long as you open the door for me," I said, a cheeky grin on my face.

"Of course," he replied, smiling too.

"I'm gonna go get my stuff from my bike," I informed, "should I tell them to come back in?"

"Yeah, I should put them up to date."

I nodded and made my way outside, taking my time processing everything that had just happened. I made eye contact with Sam and Dean, who nodded at me in acknowledgement.

They were leaning on a black car, that I'm assuming was theirs, staring at me in interest.

I walked up to them, smiling softly. "Bobby asked me to tell you to go back in," I said.

"Did you two work your stuff out?"

"You could say."

"Good. That's great," smiled Sam. He got off the hood and attempted to walk, but he stopped when he saw me standing in my place. "You're leaving?"

"No, I'm just getting my stuff," I smiled. "Nice car, by the way."

"Thanks," replied Dean, beaming with pride. "You like vintage cars?"

"Yeah, but I'm not an expert. I prefer motorcycles."

"I see..." He nodded, "That's yours, then?"

I turned to see what he was pointing at, and smiled when my bike came into sight.

"Yeah. A birthday gift," Grace had hunted down for two years all the pieces necessary for me to rebuild it. The Royal Enfield Himalayan was painted black, and after how much work I put into it, it couldn't feel any more  _ mine _ . "Get back inside now, or Bobby won't have enough time to tell you everything."

Sam laughed softly, and Dean rolled his eyes playfully. I started to walk towards my motorcycle, but Dean's voice interrupted ne.

"Why? You movin' in or something?"

I stopped for a second, looking at nothing and with a mild smirk on my face. I halfway turned to him, and simply replied, "Ask  _ him _ ."

\----------------------------------------------------

When I walked into the house again, this time carrying my bags, Sam was the one waiting for me, ready to guide me to the room I'd be staying at.

"Let me," he asked, and I handed him one of my bags. 

"Did Bobby put you two up to speed?" I asked as I followed him upstairs.

"Yeah. How're you doing?"

I frowned. "Uh?"

Sam chuckled, a small blush hidden under the darkness of the second floor.

"I don't know, I guess it's gotta be a lot to take in..." I looked around at the corridor, realizing it was so poorly lit because the only window was covered with a rag that started its life as a curtain. Sam opened one of the doors and my theory was confirmed, as the sunlight blinded me for a moment. "Just, if you need to talk-..."

"Thanks," I smiled, and then walked into the bedroom. The curtains here were halfway closed, but some light got through anyway. The bed was ready and the floor was mostly empty, except for the books that towered against the wall in several spots. There was a dresser with nothing on top of it, and that's where Sam put my bag, before turning to look at me.

"Dean and I are right next door, and Bobby's room is at the end of the corridor."

I visualized a little map of the second floor as I nodded. "Got it. Any rooms I'm not supposed to go into?"

He hid the surprise really well, but the confusion, although subtle, was still visible.

"I don't think so, but... Maybe avoid the basement, especially if there's nobody else there. A lot of cursed objects and weapons- It's not safe if you don't know where is what."

I nodded, focused. Sam and Dean ahead, Bobby to my left and stay out of the basement. I can learn all that.

"I'll let you get settled and then I'll show you the rest of the house," Sam said, and walked out of the room.

\----------------------------------------------------

Bobby's place had seen better days, I was sure of it- But I couldn't point out why. Maybe it was the wallpaper, now dirty and worn-out, whose beautiful pattern seemed out of place on a hunter's house; maybe it was the way that the carpet had probably matched the furniture in the beginning; maybe it was the wedding picture framed in the room I was staying at that I'm 95% sure he forgot was there.

I felt tempted to put it in a drawer or something, but what I did instead was wipe the dust off it and straighten the frame carefully.

Bobby's wife was beautiful.

And noticeably resembling of my mom.

I didn't think much of it, or at least I tried not to. I saw the heartbreak in his eyes when he talked about her, so I couldn't judge him.

Sam and I were outside when we finished the tour. The sun was starting to set in the horizon, as the hot temperature of the day made room for a chilly night that a part of me was sure, I'd be too tired to see.

"That's the garage," Sam had shown me, "The Impala is there, but there's room if you want to leave your bike there for the night, too. Over there is the entrance, but you knew that already. The town is that way," he pointed to our right, "and the highway is that way," he finished, his hand extended to the left.

"I think I've got it. Thanks, Sam."

"You're welcome," he smiled. "Are you ready to go back inside?"

I nodded.

"Let's go."

\----------------------------------------------------

Dinner was almost ready when we went back inside. The conversation was mainly led by Sam and Dean, catching Bobby up on what they'd been up to, and asking me fairly innocent questions.

I wasn't specially hungry, though, so I served myself a small portion and was done pretty quickly, and soon excusing myself to go to bed.

Incredible how exhausting strong emotions are, I thought, seconds before passing out on my room.

\----------------------------------------------------

“... _ -You must be outta your mind, boy, what were you thinking!? _ ”

“Morning.”

“Holy sh-!” I turned around, my heart beating in my throat. “Sam. Christ.” I unplugged my earbuds and shoved them in my pocket,  _ Nobody Does It Better  _ by Ariana Grande pausing automatically. “You almost give me a heart attack.  _ Hi _ .” He let a grin into his face, and I felt the blush creeping into mine.

“You're making breakfast?”

“Yeah,” I said, returning my attention to the pan, and thankful that he didn't mention my very dramatic lip sync. “You think he'll mind? I don't wanna overstep-”

“I doubt it. If it tastes as good as it smells, you're good.”

I chuckled, relieved.

“Do you know if he has chia seeds somewhere?” I looked over my shoulder to see his face, and his expression made the answer very clear. “I'll take that as a no.”

Dean walked into the kitchen as Sam sat down on the table. 

“What's that smell?”

“Scrambled eggs.”

“You're kidding.”

“No, I'm serious,” I replied, “they're almost done, give me a sec.”

“ _ Take all the time you need.” _

I'm not dumb: He was flirting. 

It could have been a perfectly friendly sentence any other time, but the cocky tone and the slow pace gave his intentions away.

They waited in silence as I served the food in two plates and handed them over.

“Thanks, Bijou.”

“Thanks.”

I smiled in response, and then I turned around and started breaking a few more eggs, for Bobby and me.

“I've been meaning to ask,” commented Sam, “where’s your name from?”

“It's french for 'jewel’.” I said. “It's pronounced _bee-zhoo_ , but you can call me Biz, if that's easier. I don't really have a preference.”

Sam hummed softly, before returning his attention to his breakfast.

“Mornin’,” said a third voice, “Is that..? You didn't have to bother, y’know?”

“It's no bother. I like cooking. Besides,” I said, as I turned to shot a reassuring smile at Bobby, “I was the first one up. It made sense.”

He hummed, impressed, and then looked at his clock.

“What time did you wake up?”

I hesitated for a second.

“... _ Early.” _

Bobby frowned at the doubt in my voice. 

"Was the bed uncomfortable?"

"Oh, no! No no no," I assured. Last thing I wanted was to make him think I was having a bad time. "Nothing like that. It was perfect. I'm just used to waking up early." Which wasn't a lie, but was not the exact truth either.

I finished the eggs and served them, handing one of the plates to Bobby.

"Thanks," he mumbled.

"No problem."

My phone buzzed with a text, and I was relieved to see it was from my sister.

**"Hey, how'd it go?"**

My ex had called me drunk at 05:34 in the morning to  _ try and talk things through _ . Needless to say I was not on board. 

I sat on the small table, deciding to respond to the text later. 

Then, another one followed.

**"Call me when you see this, I'm dying to hear what happened"**

Dean eyed my phone as I picked it up to put it in silent.

"Boyfriend?" he asked, earning a look from his brother.

"Not even close," I replied simply.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


GAP----------------------------------------------------

“Bijou?” Called Bobby, and I looked up to see him with a frown on his face.

“Yeah?” He shifted on his feet, anxiously, and I scooted to the side, making room for him to sit. When he sat, I got worried. “Everything alright?”

“I wanted to talk to you, about the boys- Dean, specially.”

Oh,  _ hell _ no.

“What about them?”

I don't know if playing dumb was the way to go, but this could possibly be the first semi normal father-daughter interaction we had, and I didn't want to make it worse, considering how nervous he seemed to be to begin with.

“They have... A bit of a reputation, with the ladies. Dean is the one who worries me, he-...”

I put a hand over my mouth, grasping it tight not to laugh, and closed my eyes.

“Bobby, I-” I stopped.  _ What was I going to say? _ I decided to let him finish, and then start assessing the situation. “I understand what you mean. What were you getting at?”

“Right. I need you to know that so you won't...  _ Succumb _ , to his advances.”

My lips tightened and I felt my cheeks get hot, which meant I probably looked like a tomato.

There was only one option for me here, and that included doing something I wasn't planning on doing so soon.

“I hear what you say,” I nodded, circling the subject, “and to  _ that _ , I reply with: I'm not interested in either of them. Not like that.”

“Oh, good.  _ I-... _ Good.”

“I'm not interested in any _guys_ like that.”

Bobby frowned, muttering a small “Uh?”

“I'm gay, Robert.”

He didn't say anything, but he opened his eyes wide for a second, and then his face went blank.

As much as I tried, I couldn't decipher what he was thinking- And that wasn't helping my own state of mind.

“Is that a problem?” I asked,  _ managed _ to ask, my own voice rebelling against me. I came out sounding somewhat resembling of calm and decided, and I took that as a win, especially because I knew that perfectly could be the  _ only _ win of this conversation.

Bobby was quiet. He knew he had to say something, he  _ knew _ it- He saw the time to say the right thing running out, but he just couldn't get the words out. There was a hand over his mouth, and he couldn't shake it off no matter how hard he tried.

Was I afraid he'd reject me?  _ Yes _ , but if I had survived all these years without him, I could perfectly continue like that for the rest of my life. That thought fueled me.

“Is that. A. _ Problem? _ ” I insisted, harsher this time. He started to mumble something, but my mind was already going places on its own. “Because if it is, I'm gonna need you to tell me, and  _ now _ .” 

I shot up from my seat, too much energy going through my veins to stay still. Bobby stood up too, slower than I had, but remained silent, his mouth refusing to cooperate with him.

"That's who I am, and I'm proud of it.”  _ So what if I lost my father not even a week after finding him? I can make it through without him _ . “So if you have a problem-!”

“It isn't,” he said finally, hands up in surrender, “I don't. It's not a problem, I promise.” I let out a bunch of air that I was keeping inside my lungs, feeling more grounded instantly. “It's just the shock. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-...”

And he stopped, because he didn't know what he'd done. He just knew he was never doing it again.

"Oh. I'm sorry," I said.

“It's okay. And sorry for assuming that you-... That  _ Dean _ ,” he corrected, but I laughed and he didn't go on.

The adrenaline was wearing off, making my hands unclench slowly.

“I understand. I assume you had your reasons.”

He sighed, chuckling, and adjusted his hat. “Yeah, I do. It's just- Those boys are like my sons, and you're like my daughter.”

“...I  _ am _ your daughter.”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, awkwardly, but I just laughed again.

I was about to finish the conversation- we both needed to cool down for a second-, but he took a deep breath and gently grabbed me by the wrist.

“Bijou, I should warn you, I'm not- I'm  _ old _ ,” he said, and I realized where it was going, “and sometimes I say, and  _ do, _ things that ain't-” He shook his head. I hummed, encouragingly, and he looked up to me again. “Don't let me get away with it, that's all I'm asking.”

“Okay. Okay, I won't. And if there's something you want to ask me, you can, always.”

“Thanks,” he said.

“Anytime.”

His softened expression turned back to his regular one as he remembered something.

“Should I tell Dean to leave you alone or..?”

“Oh!" I smiled, picking my words carefully. "Well, as a good rule of thumb you shouldn't out people,” Bobby frowned, and I clarified, "As in, out of the closet. It's not anybody's place but mine to have that conversation." He nodded, serious. "And I'm also kinda curious to see how long will it take him to figure out I like girls, so...”

“I'm still gonna talk to him,” he informed, "both of them, actually."

“You're gonna do a number on them, aren't you?”

He shrugged, as if it were obvious.

“It doesn't matter who you like, they shouldn't be flirting with my daughter  _ at all _ .”

It took him a few moments to realize it was the first time he'd called me that, at least to my face.

“Well, just don't go overboard with the whole “protective father” thing, okay?”  _ Did I choose that word on purpose? The world might never know _ . “I can take care of myself.”

He nodded, smiling.

“I'm sure you can. Can you hang back here a couple of minutes?” Then, he turned around and walked out the door, headed towards the garage, where the boys were.

\----------------------------------------------------

“Boys, c'me here.”

Sam and Dean shared a look.  _ What did you do?  _ Wanted to ask Sam, but he decided to wait and let Bobby tell him- because by the looks of it, he was going to.

“So...” Started Dean, slowly.

“So,” repeated Bobby, as Dean wiped the grease off his fingers. “Bijou.”

Dean looked up and grinned. 

“Yeah. Listen, I gotta tell you, Bobby, nice work there, she's-...”

“Completely off limits,” Bobby growled, severe.

“We know, Bobby, we wouldn't try anything,” assured Sam.

“ _ You _ wouldn't,” replied Bobby, and then turned to look at Dean.

“What did  _ I _ do?” Exclaimed Dean, faking offense.

“I know you were trying to flirt with her already.” Sam turned to glare at Dean, who just raised his hands in defeat, “And I want you to stop, or I'll  _ make ya stop _ . We clear?”

“Okay, but Bobby-”

“We get it,” Interrupted Sam, and then added, pointedly, “Don't we?”

“Yeah, yeah, fine, no flirting with your daughter,” said Dean, waving his hand dismissively.

\----------------------------------------------------

I saw how, even after the threatening, the Winchesters and Bobby seemed to get along just as good, and that got me thinking.

Their relationship was strong, clearly. Which makes a lot of sense, since he's known them since they were kids. It's like, in a certain way, they got the "father experience" that I missed with him.

And if that thought should've made me bitter, it somehow didn't. Instead, I realized that if I really wanted this to last, I would have to get along with them.

And, if I wanted to bond with my father's surrogate sons, I guess _right_ _now_ is as good time as ever.

I grabbed two beers from the fridge and a can of Sprite before heading outside, where Sam and Dean sat peacefully, staring into the night sky.

“Hey,” I smiled, and the brothers turned to see me, Sam sitting on a folding chair while Dean sprawled himself on the stairs to the yard.

“Hey."

"How's it going?"

"Pretty good, actually."

"Yeah?" Asked Sam, taking the bottle I extended him.

"I mean, I came here with no expectations, just to be safe, but this turned out really great."

"You and Bobby are getting along, then?" Asked Dean, interested.

"Yeah. I think- I hope we are."

"He likes you, Biz," assued Sam.

I smiled at the nickname, and blushed at the rest of the sentence.

"You think?"

"We  _ know _ ," corrected Dean.

"Oh. Well, I like him too," I said, "at first I thought he was pissed at me for something, but I guess I was wrong."

Sam and Dean laughed, with expressions that made clear they knew a little too well what I was talking about.

"He gives that impression, yeah," agreed the younger brother.

"I'm glad I came."

Dean hummed softly, and took the bottle to his lips, thoughtful. Seizing the silence, Sam asked:

“So, how’d you find Bobby?”

“My mom gave me his info one day.”

“ _ One day? _ You... Didn’t ask for it?”

I shot a glance at the door, checking he wouldn’t hear.

“No, she just- Kinda dropped the bomb on me without a warning.”

“That sounds...  _ Fun _ .”

“She had a sense of humor.”

Sam noticed the use of ‘had’ and carefully asked, “Did she pass?”

“You could say,” I replied, after thinking about it for a moment. “I don’t know where she is. One day she took off.”

“Wow. Sorry.”

“‘S okay. It’s been a few years.”

“Wait, hold up- I thought you said she had given you Bo-” An elbow knocked the air out of Dean’s lungs before he could finish his sentence.

I couldn’t help to laugh.

“She did. I was just sixteen, and she left pretty soon after.”

“How old are you now?”

“Almost twenty one.”

Dean whistled.

“You took your time.”

“Dean!” Hissed his brother. Dean just turned to face him, defensive. I laughed again. 

“I know. I was busy.”

“For _five_ _years_?”

Sam didn’t even try to stop him this time, he just rubbed his face with one hand, mortified.

“I had something to take care of,” I limited myself to reply, “I’m here now.”

“Yeah, I can see that.”

“So,” said Sam, trying to move on from the  _ obviously private _ subject, “Do you have any other family? Besides Bobby, I mean.”

“Yeah, a sibling.”

“I’m assuming you two have different...” Trailed off Dean, to Sam’s despair, and I laughed again.

“Fathers? Yeah.” 

“Are they-”

“I'd rather talk about something else.”

"Yes, of course," said Sam pointedly, before Dean could even get a word out. 

"Fine, Jesus," muttered the green-eyed. "How about hunting stories? You can't go wrong with those."

I huffed a laugh. "I'd like to hear them, but I don't hunt, so..."

"Wait, what?"

"What?" I asked, kinda defensive.

"Nothing, sorry- We just assumed, y'know?"

"Yeah. I mean, I trained. Mom taught me how to hunt and all, but after-" I shut up suddenly. "When she left I didn't had time to hunt anymore."

That was not a lie, but there was so much more to what happened than just that.

"Yeah, I can imagine," agreed Dean.

"What's the weirdest thing you've ever seen?"

Sam took a second to think, but Dean replied instantly. "We once hunted a dragon," he bragged.

"Say what?" I asked, feeling my eyes wide as plates, "I thought those weren't real!"

"So did we," smiled Sam, right before telling me the whole story.

\----------------------------------------------------

The night was settled in for good when we went back inside. I wasn't sure where the boys had gone, but I was too tired to wonder. 

The TV was on even when the living room was empty, so I sat down on the couch and tried to pay attention.

It wasn't long after that Bobby joined me.

I scooted over, to make room for him, but he shook his head and stayed on his place. 

I could sense this was a serious conversation, so I turned off the volume of the TV and accommodated my body on the couch to fully face him.

"What's wrong?"

“Listen- I couldn’t help to overhear some of your conversation with the boys,” Bobby said, almost ashamed. “I didn’t mean to, I just-...” I nodded, understanding. “Can I ask you something?”

My anxiety levels went from zero to three thousand real quick. If I’m being honest, they weren’t on zero to begin with, but that sentence surely didn’t help.

“Of course.”

“Why now?”

“What do you mean?” I asked, slowly.

“For what I heard, you’ve known who I am for a while- And, I mean, I understand if you didn’t want to see me, it’s just...”

“You wanna know what changed?” I guessed. He nodded, relieved I understood what meant, when not even himself did. 

I sighed. 

“I have a little sister,” I said. His eyes grew wide for a second, but I patted the couch beside me, and he finally agreed to sit down.

It wasn't hard to realize that if I hadn’t mentioned her during all this time, it was on purpose. 

“Her name is Grace. She turned eighteen a week ago.” And that was why. He realized instantly. I’m pretty sure he figured out too the reason I had waited to talk about her, but I was going to finish what I’d started. “Mom and her dad were together until he was killed. Mom couldn’t take it, and she left right after Grace turned thirteen. I was sixteen.” I heard him gasp at some point, but he didn’t interrupt me. “I thought about looking for you. A lot. But I was responsible for Grace, and I didn’t know what kind of person you were.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry, I-”

“No, kid, ‘s not your fault,” He assured, wiping off the hurt frown that had been in his face just a moment ago, “I understand. Family comes first. Were you two alone?”

“Yeah.”

“I can’t imagine how hard that must’ve been,” he said after a second. “You and Dean- Your stories are very similar. If you ever wanna talk to someone who understands-... I mean, I’m always available. But I’m not-...”

Something about his nervous voice made a warm feeling start in my chest.

“Thank you.” He frowned. “For being available. It means a lot.”

I smiled one last time and turned again to the TV.

_ Bobby recognized the way her eyes wrinkled when she smiled, the same way her mom’s did. It wasn’t the first thing he noticed, either. She had the same posture too, and the same loud laugh. The most cynical part of him didn’t miss the chance to point out: _ There’s no way this girl is your daughter. After everything, you think you deserve a kid? You think God would give you a daughter as smart and beautiful as her? Someone with your genes can’t be like this. Her DNA is too good to have any of you in it. __

_ Bobby swallowed and did his best to ignore them.  _

_ He failed. _

\----------------------------------------------------

“You want us to do  _ what?” _ Asked Dean, eyebrows arched in confusion.

“I want you to find her mom.”

“Why? Didn’t she abandon her? You think she’ll want to see her?”

“I’m not asking you to bring her  _ here _ ,” He clarified, almost painfully, “I just need to talk to her.”

Realization hit both brothers like a train going full speed.

“You think she’s lying?”

“I think- I think she might have  _ been _ lied to.”

“But-  _ Why?” _

Bobby huffed- tempted to tell them to mind their own business.

“Just look at her, Sam. Do you think someone like her could be-?”

Sam’s shoulders dropped for a second, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to slap the self depreciation off of him.

He was  _ not _ having that crap, though.

“Yeah! Yeah, I do. Bobby-”

“We'll find her, Bobby.”

“No! Dean, shut up. Bobby,” he pleaded, and the oldest hunter sunk deeper in guilt, “Bobby, you can't tell me you really don't see it. And why would her mother lie-”

“Then you don't have any reason to worry.” 

GAP----------------------------------------------------

“I don’t understand. Why do you want to know about my mom?”

“Grace, I know it’s been a long time but...”

“Goddamn right it’s been a long time.  _ Five fucking years _ its been. Five years that my sister had to spend working her ass off to maintain us. Bee was  _ sixteen _ when she left us. We had  _ no one _ ! She barely could graduate high school. She should have been thinking about prom or some shit! And instead? She was counting dollars to make sure I’d have food to eat! All because  _ she _ couldn’t fucking handle-!” When she realized she was screaming, she froze. She closed her mouth, swallowed, and sighed. “I’m sorry. I don’t like to think about her.”

“I understand, and I’m really sorry we bought this up. But Bijou mentioned she sends some money every once in a while, and we were wondering if you still had the envelopes. I’ll promise we won’t bother you again, Grace.” Promised Sam.

Grace stared at him for a second, her eyes piercing right through him.

" _ Fine _ ," she spat out eventually.

She went upstairs and returned after a few minutes, carrying s bulk of paper envelopes like they were radioactive.

“Here. If you find her, and she asks about me,” She started, “Tell her to forget she had a daughter. She’s been pretty good at that so far.”

“Grace...” Tried Dean.

The girl turned, eyes narrowed in a death glare. “Do you know what was like waking up on my 13th birthday to my sister losing her shit because she couldn’t find our mom?” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but the poison in it was still clear. And the pain. So much pain. Then Sam realized- She had abandoned her on her  _ birthday _ . “We thought some monster had gotten to her too. I was fucking terrified.

"We spent the entire day of asking everyone if they'd seen her or heard from her. And instead of calling us, she called another hunter that told us she was fine and not being fed on by some creature.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


\----------------------------------------------------

"I'm not defending her! I swear I'm not! But I won't lie, and the truth is, as much as I think it was a fucked up thing to do, I understand it."

"You _ "understand it"? _ Are you kidding me!? She left us, Bee! We were  _ her fucking kids _ and she left us. That's not- That's not fucking normal! That's not okay, that's not  _ "understandable" _ !

"Grace, she was mourning!"

_ "So was I!" _

I didn't reply. We both started at each other, and just then I realized how her eyes were filled with tears.

"And so were you. I lost my dad- We  _ both _ did, and the only person we had left us. What the fuck kind of mother does that? So fuck no, I don't understand it. And I never will."

I sighed, starting to take deep breaths.

"I'm sorry," I muttered.

"Stop- Stop trying to be the bigger person, stop acting so mature all the time," she said, practically begging, "you don't have to be the grown up here, not anymore. And you shouldn't have  _ ever _ felt like you had to. You-... God, Bijou- You are allowed to be angry at her. You are allowed to hate her. It doesn't make you any less right."

My heart was going to jump out of my chest at any time.  _ Fuck breathing, that's what I say. _

The amount of validation her words gave me was fucking ridiculous, for starters. And embarrassing, and almost cringy.

And still, the next thing I know is that I'm crying my eyes out. She walked up to me and hugged me, standing on the tip of her toes to put her arms around me comfortably.

"I'm- Grace, I'm so sorry..."

"What for? You gave me everything I ever needed."

"But-"

"You did enough. It was not your responsibility, and you still managed to take care of me." She was sobbing too, but Grace needed to say this. "I'm sorry that you had to sacrifice being a teenager for me."

"I didn't..."

"Yes, you did, Bee. You did, and I owe you so much for that. But it's her fault, and you're allowed to be angry."

  
  
  


\-----------------------------------------------------

Bijou looked rather surprised to see it was  _ her _ phone ringing, but it took a look at the screen to have that surprise turned into annoyance.

“Give me a sec,” she asked, and stood up to take a little distance. She took a deep breath, and picked up. “Hey. What's up?”

Her annoyance was subtle, but noticeable for the trained eye- And  _ God _ was Dean used to see annoyed faces. Sam had a ridiculously big collection of those.

“Listen-... I don’t-...” Bijou tried to stay cool, but she kept getting interrupted. Whoever was on the other side of the line was about to get her angry, that was clear. “Frankie-...” 

A wave of serenity washed her frown off her face and, without another word, she hung up the phone, staring into nothingness.

“You okay?” Asked Bobby, halfway worried and halfway impressed.

“Uh?” She blinked, and then turned to see them. “Oh, yeah, I'm fine. I don’t listen to people who don’t listen to me,” She explained, “Some people haven’t realized that I mean that literally,” she shrugged. “I’m going to get some water.”

Sam broke into a grin as he turned to see Bobby’s face once she was gone.

He didn’t say anything, his expression giving away his thoughts clearly enough:  _ Holy shit. _

“ _ Yeah _ ,” agreed Bobby.

“Remind me not to piss her off, would you?”

  
  
  
  
  


GAP----------------------------------------------------

“Hold up, what?” Asked Dean, confusion written in every corner of his face.

“I said, I'm a  _ lesbian _ , Dean.”

Sam bit down the grin that threatened to come out. 

“I heard, it's just- You said I was hot! How..?”

“Dude I'm  _ gay _ , not blind.” She retorted, as if it were obvious. Sam, against his better judgement, started to laugh as silently as he could. “You  _ are _ attractive, just not attractive  _ to me _ .”

“But-” He insisted. “What about Frankie? The dude you talked to on the phone?”

Bijou grinned, not maliciously- but definitely entertained. “Frankie's a girl.”

“Wh-”

“Dude, stop arguing,” breathed Sam, cheeks red from laughing, “she knows what she's into better than you do.”

“I'm not! It's just..!”

“Thanks, Sam. That's a nice thing to say.”

Dean, ignored, turned to see Bobby. The man was looking at the scene, a small smirk on his face, as he leaned against the door frame.

“You knew?” Dean practically accused.

“Maybe,” Bobby replied, shrugging in a matter of fact tone.

\----------------------------------------------------

“Damn,” I gasped when the waitress made eye contact with us, making a small hand gesture to let us know she'd be here in a moment. 

“I know, right?” Agreed Dean, following my gaze. 

Sam just rolled his eyes, a playful smile threatening to show on his face. 

“Seriously? Is this going to be a thing now?”

Dean ignored him and went on.

“But don't get too excited, I think she has someone.” I turned to see him, frowning, and he explained. “She completely ignores me, and no offense, but I don't think she plays for your team.”

“None taken,” I assured. 

The girl came towards our table, a professional smile on her face.

“Good morning, what can I get you today?”

I looked at her. Her nails were long and painted blue, yellow and red, she had highlighter in her cheekbones and Cupid bow, and I could appreciate the tiny (and empty) hole of a septum piercing. Her pitch black hair barely reached her shoulders, and it framed her pale face with soft waves.

I ordered a latte and a glazed donut, Sam asked for a veggie omelette and Dean listed food until I lost track of what he'd ordered.

Just when she turned to walk away, a tattoo on her forearm came into my line of vision.

The gaydar had never failed me before, but  _ that _ was just plain obvious.

As soon as I knew she wouldn't hear me, I turned to Dean.

“She's gay as fuck,” I declared, eyebrows high in satisfaction.

“What?” He asked, eyes widening. A second later, he was shaking his head. “There's no way you figured that out in the thirty seconds she was here.”

“She's gay. I called it.”

“And I call bull,” Dean replied, half joking half absolutely serious.

“Dean...” Started Sam, uselessly.

“Fine. I'm gonna get her number. And when I do, you're gonna pay for my food and never going to doubt me again. Deal?”

“And when she turns you down, you're gonna pay for mine and admit you made that up,” Dean agreed, smirking.

“You're on.”

Sam sighed and rolled his eyes, and the girl -Callie, according to her name tag,- came back with her notepad in one hand and a pen in the other.

“Hey, I'm sorry, but we've run out of glazed donuts. Would you like something else?” She said, directed at me.

I placed my elbows on the table, smiling widely.

“Any personal suggestions?”

She raised her eyebrows for a short second, and then smiled back at me.

“Strawberry jam are my favorites, but I normally prefer the muffins.”

I moved my eyes a little, considering.

“Get me two muffins- I'll leave the flavors up to your best judgement.”

She giggled a little, nodded and left, walking away graciously.

Sam fought back a grin and I turned dramatically to face Dean and smiling in satisfaction.

“It's not too late to back down, you know?”

“Never,” he replied, determination in his eyes.

“Don't say I didn't warn you,” I shrugged.

I turned my attention to Sam, and we talked a little about law school, his experience, and what could Grace expect, and I noticed the little shadow in Dean's eyes.

Tough subject, I assume.

Callie came back balancing two trays with our food.

She placed down the boys’ breakfast first, and smiled softly at me while she put down a steaming hot cup of coffee in front of me, followed immediately by two muffins.

“Chocolate chips and blueberry,” she indicated. As I nodded, I pretended to notice her tattoo for the first time.

“Gravel to tempo?”

“Uh, yeah, it's-”

“It’s my favorite song too,” I interrupted, and then proceeded to pull my shirt down enough for her to see my collarbone. There, in red ink, my favorite quote from that very same song: ‘I’ll do this my way’.

“You like Hayley Kiyoko?” She asked, excitement in her voice, and I nodded matching her smile. "But, do you like Hayley Kiyoko or do you  _ like-like _ Hayley Kiyoko?"

“Oh,  _ I like her, _ like her. It’s kind of a prerequisite, y’know?” She laughed, understanding what I meant, and I blushed a little. Bet or not, I was truly into this girl. “I’ll let you know what I thought about them later, okay?” I said, pointing at the muffins.

“Yeah, sure,” She smiled, “call me if you need anything else.”

“Will do,” Said Dean, nodding once.

“Enjoy.”

And she was gone.

I turned slowly to Dean, grinning like a maniac.

He huffed, annoyed. “You haven’t won until I see a phone number.”

“And you haven’t either until she tells me she’s not into girls. And trust me, she’s not gonna,” I assured, a self satisfied smirk plastered in my face.

“We’ll see.”

I let him have the last word, just because I didn’t want him to get into an actual bad mood. So far, as annoyed as he was with my attitude, this was just a game, nothing that’d get him pissed at me for too long. 

Hopefully.

Man, what if he was really angry at me? Jesus, not even a week of knowing the guy and already managed to get him to hate me? That’d be a personal record. 

Okay, Bijou, chill. It's not that big of a deal.

I decided, regardless of what happened, I was paying for my own breakfast.

\----------------------------------------------------

When the check came, it was placed really emphatically in front of me, and with a series of numbers scribbled down, followed by ‘Calliope’ and a tiny heart.

Dean took the paper out of my hands, frowning deeply at the number.

“How in the hell..?” He looked up to me, still frowning. “I can't believe-...”

I laughed softly.

Sam took the check and looked at it, and raised his eyebrows, impressed.

“Wow, you were right.” Dean rolled his eyes at him, and Sam went on, “And to think this is the second lesbian you embarrassed yourself in front of.”

Dean glared at him, and Sam held his gaze. I laughed loud enough to break up their staring contest, and Dean turned to see me again 

"But seriously,  _ how _ did you know?"

"The gaydar never fails," I shrugged, "I'm assuming you're both straight, so you won't get it."

Sam nodded, muttering, "Yeah, I guess," while Dean just huffed in annoyance. He was expecting a more educational answer.

"Also, Hayley Kiyoko isn't called  _ 'lesbian jesus'  _ for nothing," I smirked.

"I was gonna ask about that," said Dean, "but let me pay first so we can get outta here."

  
  
  


\----------------------------------------------------

Bobby's eyes followed her as she made her way to the coffee maker, frowning.

Sam and Dean were less subtle, but she didn't seem to notice any of them.

She'd been there for such a short time, that it was unreal how fast they'd gotten used to her undying optimism. But today, she had barely mumbled good morning, and now she headed outside with a hot cup of unsweetened coffee that heavily contrasted with her usual breakfast.

"Uh... Where you going, Biz?" Asked Bobby, casually.

"I need some fresh air," she excused herself, "it won't be long."

"Of course. Mind if I come with?"

She kinda stopped, confused. She wasn't expecting that, for sure. But she had her hand on the door handle, so she nodded.

Bobby grabbed his own cup and followed her, ignoring the looks he was getting from the Winchesters.

The morning was cloudy, and 

  
  
  
  


\----------------------------------------------------

“Goddamn it.”

“Everything okay?”

“Shit! Sorry, I didn't hear you come in.”

“What'd you got there?”

“Just- Making calculations. You know, college stuff.”

“For Grace?”

“Yeah. She got into her dream school, and got an amazing scholarship, but it still is crazy expensive, not to mention she needs a bunch of text books and a place to live and...-”

“Hey, hey, calm down,” Bobby said, sitting next to me. “How much does the scholarship cover?”

“83%,” I replied, taking a deep breath. “But the entire thing will still cost me about 65 grand.”

“She’s going Ivy League, I assume?”

“Harvard Law.”

“Well, congratulate her for me. I can't imagine how hard she must have worked for that." I nodded, calming down, and he went on when he saw me breathing calmly again. "Do you know exactly how much you need?"

"65.280 dollars for tuition. I mean, if it takes her four years. It might be more." 

"Well, that sounds doable. What about living expenses?"

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


\----------------------------------------------------

“Is that... Salt?” She asked, hand still on the door handle.

“It looks like it.”

Bijou looked up quickly, running her eyes all over the place.

“Grace?” She called, stepping in. If the boys noticed how her voice nearly breaks, they didn't say anything. What they did notice, however, was the disaster that was the living room. “Grace!?”

Bijou looked through the kitchen door, and then sprinted down the hallway. The boys followed, guns out.

“In here!”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


\----------------------------------------------------

“Hey.”

“This is too hard and I can't do it.”

Bijou decided to ignore the panic rising on the other end of the line, instead turning to sarcasm.

“I'm  _ fine _ , thank you  _ very much _ for asking.”

“I'm serious, there's no way I can do this. It's too hard, I can't do it. I'm gonna drop out and become a hunter.” 

Bijou tensed visibly. All humor was gone from her voice when she practically spat, “HA! Good joke.”

There was a barely noticeable warning threaded in her voice:  _ Don't even think about it. _

“I mean it.”

“No,  _ no you fucking don't _ .”

“No, for real, fuck college, I'm gonna become Katniss.”

“No. You do that, _I kill you_ ,” She said, voice severe. 

  
  
  
  


\----------------------------------------------------

Bijou's Tattoos

_ i'll do this my way _ in red ink, on her left collarbone. Quote from "Gravel to Tempo" by Hayley Kyoko.

Right above her left knee, a small anti-possesion tattoo. She usually keeps it covered by bandages.

Another, "just in case", anti-possesion tattoo in a shade just a little darker than her skin color and barely noticeable, on the back of her neck, almost getting into her scalp.

A bunch of ear perforations, some are almost closed since she doesn't use them all the time.

On her upper right arm, the date Grace's father died, horizontally with a  mechanical font.

She has planned a bunch of others, but she's saving all her money for Grace's college.


End file.
